


Teardrops on Lashes

by writing_seconds



Category: Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Gets Plums, Bucky in Bucharest, Canon, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Slow Burn, canon AU, flangst, plum pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:26:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_seconds/pseuds/writing_seconds
Summary: After the Chitauri invaded New York and nearly ended your life, you moved to Bucharest to get away from the superhero stuff. You simply wanted an uneventful, ordinary life. But when a stranger moves into the apartment next to yours, you begin to question those aspirations and choose to risk it all for love.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Reader, Bucky Barnes/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

Bucharest was a good place to settle down, you thought. Not too many tourists, mostly friendly locals, great food, and the most underappreciated neighbors ever. 

“(y/n)! Need some help?”

You looked up from the armful of groceries you had.

Nicole, your middle aged neighbor with three kids was standing at the top of the stairwell with her youngest, a four year old, sitting on her hip.

You breathed a sigh of relief. “You are an angel,” you responded.

“I know.” She smirked and set down her son. She quickly jogged down the flight of steps to take the bags from your arms. “Month’s worth of frozen dinners?” she inquired looking into the one closest to her chest. 

“And then some. I have a few more bags to grab, but when I’m done, let me make you a cup of tea,” you said as you turned on your heel and jogged back down the stairs back out to where your (f/c) bike was waiting with the remaining sacks. After making sure that the vehicle was securely latched to the bike rack, you grabbed the bags and climbed your way up to your apartment on the ninth floor. The door was already open with Nicole organizing the dinners by category and her kids running around. You grinned as you carried in your bags. “You are a lifesaver,” you said setting them down.

She laughed. “Mhmm, and you’re an idiot for trying to take so many bags up at once.”

“Maybe I’m just counting on you to come and help me.” You took the meals from the counter and started to shove them in your nearly empty freezer. Your nose scrunched in disdain. “I need a promotion. Then maybe I can actually afford to buy real food.”

Nicole chuckled. “It’s edible, right?”

“I suppose.” Your attention was drawn away to the living room as Nicole’s children squealed. “Hey you rascals! No jumping on the couch!” you scolded.

Nicole barked something in Romanian and the children automatically obeyed.

You chuckled as you put the last of the groceries away and filled a tea kettle with water. You set it on the stove to boil and turned to your friend. “When’s Andrei supposed to be getting back?” you inquired.

Andrei, her husband, was part of the international special forces. He’d been gone for two weeks in Sokovia for relief efforts after the disaster that took place only weeks ago.

She signed. “I’m not sure. Last I heard he was coming back next week, but who knows how long this thing will take. You know how messy the Avengers can be with their quarrels.”

Oh you knew all too well. You had been there in New York when the Chitauri attacked. They were the whole reason you moved to Romania. You appreciated what they did for the world, you really did, but the further away you were from them, the better in your opinion.

She pursed her lips. “The kids are getting anxious to see their papa again.”

“Oh I can only imagine. You know you’re welcome over anytime, right?”

She shook her head with a grin. “We are well aware.” She scrunched her face up like a child. “’Can we go over to Auntie (y/n)’s? I wanna see Auntie (y/n)!’” she said in a poor imitation of her middle child, Luca. “I swear they love you more than me.”

The kettle began to whistle and you pulled two mugs from your cabinet with a laugh. “That’s because I give them candy and you don’t.” You filled the mugs with the steaming water and retrieved two tea bags from a small jar of randomly assorted flavors. You dumped one into each and held both mugs out to Nicole. “Pick your poison.”

She laughed and grabbed the mug on your right. “You’re so weird.”

You smirked and took a sip of your drink. Honey lemon ginseng, not bad.

Her eyes suddenly brightened and she set down her glass. “Oh! I remember what I had come out to do. I wanted to tell you that we have a new neighbor on the floor.”

You scrunched your nose. “They in Stefan’s old apartment?” 

Stefan was a grouchy old man who lived right next to you on the other side of your east wall. He was loud, obnoxious, and would always keep his TV on the highest setting because he couldn’t hear well. You’d never admit it, but it was a godsend the day his family moved him out to the assisted living place down the street.

She nodded. “He doesn’t seem to be as bad as Stefan, but he’s kinda cold to people.” Her lips quirked up. “You know what might melt that cold exterior though?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you say it.”

She said it anyways. “Your world famous plum pie!”

“Nicole, I have no ingredients or money to buy the ingredients for any pie right now, least of all plum pie. I just spent all my food money on dinners for the month.”

Her smile faltered a bit and she laughed nervously. “I-I might already have the ingredients you need.”

You deadpanned at her. “Is this you asking for plum pie?”

“Okay, yes. I want plum pie. But you ought to make some for the new neighbor too. It can be like a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ bit.” She looked at you with large pleading eyes.

A long and unpleasant groan escaped your lips. “Ngghhhh fine. But you pay for all the stuff.”

“Deal. Give me one second.” She shot out of the open door and returned only moments later with a large grocery bag. “I tried to make it according to the recipe you gave me but it didn’t taste the same. Here’s everything you might need.”

You tipped the bag open and scanned the contents. “Yup, it’s all here. Damn, Nicole, how long have you been planning on exploiting my baking skills?”

She smirked. “A few weeks. Now, we should probably get going, you’ve got some pie to make.”

“Mhmm, so get.” You shooed her with a laugh.

She grinned and scooped up Alexi, her youngest. “Come on, kiddos. Let’s leave Auntie (y/n) alone. She’s gonna make us plum pie.” 

They were all out the door within seconds, eager to let you get to work, leaving you with the silence of your now empty apartment. This gave you a bit to actually unwind and look around.

Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the nicest one on the block, but at the time you were buying it was the best you could afford. After all, a college graduate making a split decision to move halfway across the world doesn’t have much of a budget. Since you had moved to Bucharest three years before, you’d bought the apartment and used money that you collected from your job to renovate the place. What once was a rickety apartment with cracked walls and creaking boards was now a decent studio apartment with new wallpaper and silent floors. You had a TV, a couch, a decent kitchen, a small dining set for three pushed against a wall, and a small but cozy bed pushed into a corner. It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough for you.

You sighed and went over to your oven. You flicked the preheat switch on and retrieved the apron from its handle. Turning back to the groceries, you tied the apron on over your work clothes. You had some pie to make.

The pie took a good couple hours to bake as it always did. That was part of the reason you hated to make it. By the time both pies were done, it was roughly around dinner time. God, you hoped the new neighbor like plums. 

You carefully peeled the pie out of the baking dish and set it down on a serving platter that you could afford to lose. After all, you weren’t sure if he’d return it or not. You untied your apron and dusted the flour off your clothes and out of your hair the best you could in an attempt to make yourself more presentable. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror by the door and shrugged. 

“Ah, hell, it’s good enough.”

You picked up the serving dish and left your apartment. You didn’t have to walk even three steps before you were at his door. Mustering up all the courage you could, you knocked gently on the door. You took a step back, settling on your heels as you waited, when suddenly it dawned on you that he might not speak English.

Sure you had taken language classes to learn Romanian on DuoLingo, but you were nowhere near fluent. Nicole spoiled you with having already known almost perfect English and your workplace never really required you to speak Romanian so you were way out of practice. You should’ve thought about that earlier.

Just as you were getting ready to turn away so you could go brush up on Romanian, the door slowly creaked open.

Your breath hitched. 

The most beautiful pair of blue eyes peeked out at you from the opening. They scanned you up and down and the door slowly opened more to reveal a handsome face covered with a light stubble and framed by longer chocolate brown hair. He was a long sleeved red Henley and a pair of beat up jeans. His hands were covered by a pair of gloves. 

‘His hands must get cold easily,’ you thought to yourself. ‘What would it be like to hold those hands? Wait, what?’ It took you a moment to realize you were staring and he was waiting expectantly to see why you had disturbed him. Your mind blanked and your immediate response was ‘oh shit.’ Time to wing this thing.

“Ah, hi?” you started, trying to buy yourself some time to bring up the little Romanian you remembered. “B-Bun v-v-venti în cartier. T-T-Te-am adus ceva…” Crap you forgot the words for “plum” and “pie.”

A small smile broke across his face. “Pie?” he offered in an American accent.

You paled. “Y-Yes. Um, it’s my own recipe. I wanted to say ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ and my friend said I should bring over some plum pie, so…” You shook your head and held out the dish, desperate to get the interaction over with so you could escape his piercing gaze and crawl under your covers to die in embarrassment at your poor Romanian and pathetic welcoming gift. You weren’t sure why you were so flustered around him when you didn’t even know his name.

He hesitated before opening the door a little more. “Plum?” he asked curiously, the word rolling off his tongue.

“Yes. Ah, I get it if you don’t like plum, it’s an acquired taste but I–”

“No,” he said suddenly cutting you off. “Plum is just fine. Thank you.” He slowly reached out to grab the dish as he might reach out towards a scared animal.

You met him halfway, passing the dish into his hands.

He flinched slightly despite the gloves as your hand came in brief contact with his, pulling away as soon as the dish was away from you.

“Well, ah, that’s all I have for you.” You awkwardly looked down at your toes which were suddenly very interesting. “Welcome to the neighborhood. It was very nice to meet you…”

He paused for a second before offering, “James. It was nice to meet you too…”

“(y/n),” you responded with a smile. “Enjoy your pie.”

He nodded and retreated into his apartment closing the door. 

The door locked with an audible click and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Wow…” You shook your head and went back to your apartment to retrieve the other pie you had made. Nicole was so going to get an earful of this later.

* * *

Behind the door, James was still standing still as he listened to your footsteps walk a few steps to the west. His hands tightly clutched the dish as the smell of plums wafted up into his nose. As if in a trance, he walked over to his kitchenette and set it down on the counter. Next door he could hear you walking around, your footsteps light on the wood. It would be strange living with someone so close to him, especially someone like you. 

He opened one of the few moving boxes he had and pulled out a fork. He pulled a stool over to the counter and gently pierced the pie’s surface. He lifted the small bite to his lips and ate it. The flavor exploded over his tongue, causing him to smile slightly. Subconsciously, plums had just become his favorite fruit.


	2. Chapter 2

“Nicole, I swear, it was like he stared into my soul his eyes were that intense.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh my lord you’re so full of it.” She took another sip of her coffee and laughed.

“No, really,” you insisted. “You should’ve seen them. It was ridiculous!” you burst into a small fit of laughter.

“Oh, I bet.” Her eyes trailed from your face to something behind you and her eyes narrowed. “Luca!”

You turned your head to see said boy who was inching closer to the pie you had brought over with a fork freeze like a deer in headlights. 

His eyes shot to his mother and he quickly scrambled away from the treat.

Another round of laughter shook your body. “You said you wanted a pie, you got a pie.” The pies, giving one to James, the thoughts just made you groan with embarrassment. “God, my Romanian was terrible. And he spoke English the whole time! I could’ve avoided the whole thing.”

She smirked. “Serves you right for not keeping up with practice. Maybe I should only speak Romanian to you; that would show you.”

“Oh god, please don’t,” you begged. “I’ll never be able to talk to you again and I’ll miss my best friend.” You pouted and leaned forward onto her table so your chin rested on the wood. 

“Oh fine, I won’t but only because some days you’re the only thing keeping me sane in this crazy world.”

You smiled in content. “I win. Besides, I know enough to get by and make purchases, I’m just not fluent.”

“Whatever, (y/n). When you end up kidnapped and the only way to save yourself is to speak fluent Romanian, I don’t want to hear it.”

You chuckled. “That’s not gonna happen.” Your attention was drawn away by the large grandfather clock as it chimed eleven tones. “But what is gonna happen is me going home and to bed. I still have to work tomorrow.”

Nicole nodded. “I’ll walk you out.” She stood and turned to her kids. “You three, get ready for bed while I take Auntie (y/n) out. Liza,” she said addressing her eldest, “Help Alexi into his pajamas, please, and I’ll be right back to tuck you all in.”

Liza, the only girl in the bunch, nodded and picked up her baby brother. She carried him off into the other room.

Nicole walked you over to the apartment’s door. “Thanks again for the pie. And sorry about your awkward encounter.”

You groaned. “Thanks. I just need to sleep and forget about it now. God I hope he doesn’t think I’m a weirdo.”

“But you are a weirdo.”

You jerked your head at the door. “But _he_ doesn’t need to know that.”

She opened the door with a smile. “Goodnight weirdo.”

With a wave you exited her warm apartment into the cold hallway. You shoved your hands into your pockets to fish out your keys as you walked the fifteen feet to get to your apartment. They slid out of your pocket with a small jingle and you inserted the (f/c) key labeled “Home” into the lock. You pushed the door open and took a step forward. Your foot slid a bit under your weight and you stopped. Your gaze flickered downwards.

Beneath your foot there was a small slip of paper folded in half. On top, in handwriting that was surprisingly legible through all its sloppiness, your name was written. You bent over and picked up the note. 

Flipping it open you read, “Thank you for the pie. It is delicious.” It was signed simply with James.

For whatever reason, the fact that he had actually written you a thank you note brought a smile to your lips. You set the note down on your counter next to your keys before commencing your bedtime routine of changing into your best pair of pajamas and brushing your teeth and hair. 

By the time you were ready to sleep, it was _way_ past your bedtime, and your body could feel it. You flicked off the lights in the apartment and made sure the door and windows were locked before padding over to your bed. You climbed under the heavy duvet and pulled it up to your shoulders. It felt like as soon as your head hit the pillow you were out like a light.

However, you were stirred awake in the middle of the night by erratic screams of panic and whimpers of pain. After the second scream you snapped wide awake. In your disoriented state, you couldn’t tell where it was coming from, at least not until you heard the whimpers coming from your east wall.

You acted on instinct as you stood and quietly walked over to the wall. Concern for your neighbor filled your mind as you assumed he was having a nightmare. “James!” you called just loud enough to where you thought your voice would pierce the thin walls. “James, it’s okay. You’re okay!” 

You continued to speak to him through the wall for a good five minutes, not knowing if your voice was reaching him or not. You didn’t know what he was dreaming about but you could only imagine that it was horrid from his screams. 

Finally, after a bit, he quieted down into what you could assume was his peaceful version of sleep.

You sat against the wall for a few moments more before deeming it safe to go back to bed. “Goodnight, James,” you murmured with a yawn and returned to bed, once more resuming your night of sleep.

* * *

On the other side of the wall, James was sitting up on his mattress in a cold sweat. He heaved deep breaths as he tried to control his breathing and steady his heart. The nightmares were just as bad here, if not worse, so why did he wake up? His question was answered as he heard a quiet voice in the dark.

“Goodnight, James,” it said.

His head perked up and snapped to the wall where your voice came from. His mind sped through thoughts of who it could be before matching the voice to the neighbor who had brought him the pie.

A wave of guilt washed over him. Had he woken you up? God he hoped not. He was trying to be as incognito as possible, and waking neighbors with night terrors was not a good way to do so. 

But as he sat there, he began to feel a little grateful towards you. He must’ve woken up when you started to talk to him. He had to admit your voice was pretty calming.

He pursed his lips as he settled back into his sleeping back. His thoughts trailed back to his neighbor and stayed there until he slowly drifted off into a quiet sleep.

* * *

The next morning you were rudely awaken by the alarm on your phone beeping angrily. With a reluctant growl you sat up and glared at the little rectangular device that was charging on the counter all the way across the room.

“Mhmm,” you muttered as you swung your legs out from the bed, “keep beeping and I’ll beep you.” You scurried across the cold wooden floors of your apartment and clicked the alarm’s stop button. When the room was finally silent agin you allowed your brain to relax and go over the previous night. You had woken up in the middle of the night for something, but you couldn’t remember what. You shrugged it off as a dog or something outside.

After glancing at the clock you began to go through your morning routine until you hit the last step of getting into your uniform. Thankfully it was only a red polo with the Cyrotechnics label on the breast and a shorter khaki skirt but it was enough to make you uncomfortable at the office all day and on the bike ride to the office. You worked at a computer company in the programming and security division having been pretty decent with the tech and a skilled hacker in college. You knew what to look out for and how to combat most hacking techniques. It was a decent job, and it allowed you a little extra money to do things like fixing up your apartment when you needed it. Plus, it had benefits which you wouldn’t have gotten working at the bakery on the block.

You scooped up your bag from its hanger by the door, shoved in your phone and charger, grabbed your keys, and walked out of your apartment.

Just as you were locking your door, the one next to you opened and out walked James.

He was dressed in a leather jacket with a blue shirt on underneath and a pair of black pants. A baseball cap adorned his head covering some of his hair and his gloves were still covering his hands. He paused for a second when he saw you before he fully emerged from his place.

Great, the neighbor you embarrassed yourself in front of just had to come out when you did. You considered not saying anything to him, but the neighborly side of you just wasn’t going to allow that. If you managed to give a hello to grouchy old Stefan whenever you saw him, you could manage to give one to his replacement.

“Good morning,” you said in the cheeriest voice you could manage this early in the day.

James nodded in acknowledgment. “Morning,” he muttered fitting his key into his lock.

“I got your note. I’m glad you liked the pie,” you said while internally wincing at your weak attempt to make some small talk. Gosh, was it this hard to talk to Nicole when you first got to know each other?

His lips twitched up. “It’s pretty good,” he responded simply.

Hearing his praise made a sense of pride that you didn’t understand fill your chest. Why did you care that this stranger liked the pie you gave him. You just chalked it up to “Good, I’m glad.” You finished locking your door and turned to face James. “Well, if you ever need more, I’m right next door,” you offered without thinking. 

This time he spared a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You nodded, not knowing what else to say. That was the part you hated most about new people: you didn’t know enough to keep up a conversation. It was time to take your leave. “Well, uh, I have to go if I’m going to be on time for work,” you said sticking your keys in your bag.

He blinked as if awoken from a trance. “Ah, right. Uh, well I should let you be going then.”

You nodded. “It was good to see you, James.”

“And you, (y/n).” 

You nodded and scurried past him to the stairs and quickly descended all the flights of stairs. You needed to get your bike and get going or you really would be late. Your boss would not like that one bit.

You exited the building and dashed over to the bike rack where your bike should have been. Key word: _should_.

In its place was the chain she had used to lock it up, cut and not holding a bike.

“Oh, no. Nononononono this can’t be happening,” you said in a panic. “Crap, crap, please no.” You rushed over to the chain and picked it up. The cut link dangled by a thread. 

James looked over at your panic. “What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown.

“My bike, someone stole it and I won’t get to work on time and my boss is going to flay me alive,” you groaned.

His brows creased. “Um, I don’t normally offer this, but, my motorcycle has room for two. I’m going out to look for a job and I can drop you off on my way,” he said halfheartedly.

You didn’t want to take him up on the offer, he looked uncomfortable even talking about it, but at the same time you had to get to work if you wanted to pay the bills. “Would you?” you finally asked after a bit. “I’ll bake you all the pies in the world if you do.”

At that offer, James smiled. “Just the plum will do.” He jerked his head towards the alley next to your apartment building. “C’mon.” He began to walk towards the space between the two buildings.

You followed closely, giving promises of pies for days in exchange for the ride.

He chuckled. “I’ll hold you up to those,” he promised. He stopped in front of a Harley Motorcycle with a helmet sitting on the seat. He picked it up and tossed it to you. “Put it on,” he ordered as he swung his leg over the bike and settled into the seat.

You did so without hesitation and climbed on behind him making sure your skirt was in place. “God, I can’t thank you enough for this,” you said under your breath.

He gripped the handlebars of the bike. “Just hold on.” He turned it on and revved the engine.

Just before the bike began to move, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso.

The bike sped off and into Bucharest’s busy streets. James was a good bike driver, that’s for sure. He wove in and out of traffic perfectly.

“So where do you work?” he asked over the loud roar of the wind. 

“Cyrotechnics!” you called back.

He nodded and took a turn towards the heart of the city, and within minutes, you were pulling up in front of your office building. James pulled the bike to a stop on the curb.

You lifted the helmet off your head and shook out your hair to clear the severe case of helmet head you were sure you had. You handed it back to him as you climbed off the bike. “Thank you again, James. I’ll be sure to drop by the store and buy a new bike when I can so you won’t have to do this anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was going out anyways. If you ever need a ride again, my bike will always have room for two.”

You smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you later, James.” You shouldered your bag and walked into the building, only glancing back as you heard the bike rev and drive away. 


	3. Chapter 3

After the longest day of work you had ever experienced, you found yourself at the bike store to look for a replacement for the one that had gotten stolen. The price tags made your head spin. Since when did bikes get so damn expensive? When you bought your old bike it was a little less than a hundred dollars and now they were running a little over three hundred.

Looks like you’d be walking everywhere for a while.

You thanked the sales associate for helping you before leaving the shop.

The busy streets of Bucharest were packed with people on the sidewalks and maneuvering around the street vendors that were selling various goods. The chatter of the people having their own conversations filed into a buzz in the background that made the walk back to your apartment feel much quicker than it actually was.

As you rounded the last corner to get to your building, you stopped dead in your tracks when the last thing you ever expected to see was sitting right outside your apartment building.

Parked outside and chained to the bike rack was your bike. The (f/c) bike you had bought all those years ago was sitting there like it had never left. The only thing that was different was a white slip of paper taped to the handle bars.

You ran over to the bike and peeled off the note. In James’s handwriting, you read, “I found your bike :) I think that earns me a pie.”

You barked a laugh. How in the hell had he found your bike? It was stolen for crying out loud! You looked down at the chain to see a pretty good combination lock holding it to the rack. Well, time to go figure out what your new combination was.

You entered the building and began to scale the stares to the ninth floor. You propelled yourself onto the landing and made your way to James’s door. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the wood.

There was a small scuffling before the door slowly opened. His eyes peeked out of the door suspiciously, and when they saw your face, they visibly softened. “(y/n),” he said in a simple greeting and opened the door wider.

You looked at him. “How did you get my bike back? Where was it? How did you even know it was mine?” you asked in a shotgun style, firing one question after another without giving him a second to answer.

James patiently waited for a pause in your rambling before he responded. “First, I saw it outside the building when I first brought my stuff up, and when it went missing and you were upset, I put two and two together and guessed it was yours. It’s good to see that my observations skills have yet to let me down.” He paused and leaned against the door frame. “Second: I saw some scumbag trying to sell it in the market and took it back.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You stared at him. “That’s it? You just took it back?”

“Yeah, what else was I going to do? I locked it up for you too, so that way it wouldn’t get taken again. The code is 147.”

You blinked. “W-Wow, I, uh, I don’t know how to thank you,” you stammered.

He smirked. “I could use another one of those plum pies. The last one barely lasted twelve hours.”

You pursed your lips. “Really? C’mon, even my neighbor’s three kids have more self control than that,” you said with a laugh.

“Hey, plums are my favorite,” he said holding his hands up in defense. “And that pie was amazing.”

“Well, unfortunately for you,” you started, glancing down at your shoes, “I’m out of food money for the month and I have no more ingredients for it.”

“Well lucky for both of us, I have some extra money.” James gave you a smile.

The sight made your heart flutter. This had to be the first time you saw him truly smile.

“Oh really? Then I guess I have no reason not to make you a pie.” You paused, looking down at your work attire. “Give me a second to get changed and then we can go shopping. Then I’ll teach you to make it so you can have it whenever you want.” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you walked the couple of steps to your apartment. “Be back in a bit.” You quickly unlocked the door and slipped in.

* * *

James stood in his doorway, slightly taken aback by your promise of teaching him to make your pie. He had been expecting you to just agree, take his money, and do it all by yourself. He had not been expecting youto instigate something that would lead you both into spending the whole afternoon together. He had known he was taking a risk making steps to get closer to you, but there was just something about you that intrigued him. He found himself waiting out in the hallway for you to come back out, anxiously clenching and unclenching his fists.

What was he doing? He moved here to get away from HYDRA, or SHIELD, or whatever government organization that would hunt him down to fill their own agendas. “Completely off the grid,” is what he had told himself when he decided to rent his dingy old apartment. “Leave no trace,” is what he had made himself promise. So why was he waiting to go grocery shopping with his neighbor whom he had known all of one day?

The logical side of him was saying to just go back inside and finish the emergency exit supplies. Pretend he got sick or something and never talk to you again. Disappear off her radar. After all, being around him would only get you hurt.

The human side of him, however, was trying to coax him out of his cold shell. “This is what we wanted. A fresh start,” it said. You didn’t know him or what he had done before Bucharest. You didn’t know Bucky or the Winter Soldier and so you didn’t expect anything from him. You only knew James, the quiet new neighbor with a love of plums.

A small smile crossed his lips. Maybe that’s all he needed.

* * *

Meanwhile, you were dashing around your apartment in a frenzy as you undressed, dressed, undressed again, and once more got dressed. No outfit seemed cool or casual enough to go out to buy things with James. You wanted to make a good impression on him, and seeing as how the first thing he saw you in was covered with flour and the second was your uniform, you weren’t doing so hot. You rummaged through your closet looking for a decent shirt with minimal holes. “Come on, (y/n), keep it together. You’re going shopping, not to the met.” Finally you settled on a plain orange v-neck, a pair of skinny jeans, and some fuzzy boots. You threw your hair up into a messy bun and quickly exited back out into the hallway. “Phew, sorry about that. I just had to get out of that skirt,” you said locking the door once more.

James’s eyes snapped towards yours. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” he quickly replied. “I was okay with waiting.”

“Still,” you shoved your keys into your pocket. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.” You shot him a grin and jerked your head towards the stairs. “Now come on, this pie won’t make itself.”

He stepped back from the stairs. “After you.”

You smiled. “Such a gentleman,” you teased and took the stairs first.

As you reached the main floor, James turned his gaze to you. “Do we need my bike again?”

“Oh, no. The store isn’t too far away from here,” you said walking down the sidewalk. “It’s only three blocks… I think. I can never remember just how much distance it is. It’s about a six minute walk though.”

He paused as if doing the math in his head. “So yeah, about three to four blocks. Huh, it’ll be nice to have a grocery store so close to home,“ he remarked as you started to lead him in the direction of the store.

“Oh it is. Especially when you’re craving ice cream,” you admitted with a laugh.

He smiled. “Wouldn’t want it to melt.”

You nodded with a smile.

James glanced over at you before walking behind you to your other side so you were stationed on his right side. At your puzzled look he just shrugged. “Habit. I prefer people on my right.”

Okay, little strange, but you weren’t one to argue. After all, you had your own little quirks as well.

As the both of you walked down the street, you looked up at James. “So did you end up finding a job?” you asked curiously.

He nodded. “Yeah. The moving company on thirty first street needed some extra hands. So I’ll be working there moving people in and out of houses or apartments.”

“Oh, movers,” you said with a chuckle. “They saved my life when I first got here. There was no way I could’ve moved my bed all the way to the ninth floor.”

“We are helpful,” he admitted. “And they already gave me a bonus, which I’ll be using to get pie ingredients.”

“Oh well lucky you.” You shook your head with a laugh.

The two of you rounded a corner for the final stretch to the store.

“So, Cyrotechnics?” he asked. “What do you do there?”

“Cyber security and programming,” you answered. “I basically hack our site over and over again and build software to protect it from people who would do the same thing.”

“So you’re good with computers?”

You nodded your head. “In a way. I’m much better at hacking. If you ever need to hack into government secrets, I’m your gal.”

James bit his lip to hide a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

After walking a few yards, you pulled up to the grocery store.

“Okay, we’re going to need flour, sugar, butter, and salt for the crust and cover, and for the filling we need lemon juice, nutmeg, sugar, flour, salt and cinnamon,” you rattled off. The recipe, thankfully was committed to memory after making it so many times.

He frowned as he grabbed a basket. “What about the plums?”

“Don’t worry, we get those last,” you reassured. “Now come on.”

Up and down the aisles you both walked, throwing in the ingredients you needed.

James pulled the cinnamon off the shelf and looked at its price. “Just how much are these things?”

“For a decent pie, roughly ten to fifteen dollars total. For an excellent pie, it might cost you an arm,” you said teasingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you buy the most expensive things for a pie. I’m not that evil.”

“Mhmm, well I appreciate it. I don’t have any more arms to spare.”

“I don’t think any of us do,” you said shoving the flour into the basket. “Alright, that should be everything.”

“Alright, now for the plums,” he said walking towards the produce section.

“Ah, James!” you called to stop him. “We don’t get those here.”

He frowned. “Is there another grocery store somewhere?”

You bobbed your head. “Something like that.” You led him over to the check out aisles.

He pulled out his wallet as you loaded up the conveyor belt.

The cashier told him something in Romanian. You only caught a few words like “pie” and “hot,” but it must have been something pleasant because James gave her a small smile. You noticed, however, that it wasn’t like the few he had given you before. This smile didn’t quite reach those gorgeous eyes of his like they did for you.

You quirked an eyebrow at him as you grabbed the bagged goods. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, she just told me that it’s too hot out to be making a warm pie. I don’t really care though, not when it involves your pie.”

You smiled slightly. “Good, then you won’t mind taking some of the bags?” you asked holding out the one with the heavier ingredients in it.

James cracked a grin. “I guess not.” He took the bag and continued to follow you as you exited the store. “So where do we get these plums?”

“The market,” you answered. “There’s a plum cart run by an older lady named Lucinda and she grows the best plums for pies. Not too hard but not too soft and easy to get the pit out of.”

The market was a small walk away, maybe only a minute or two, and, like always, it was bustling with people running their daily errands.

James stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the large crowd of people. His left hand clenched tightly and his lips formed a thin line.

You looked over your shoulder when his presence disappeared from your side. A concerned frown covered your lips. “James, you alright?”

He took a few moments to respond. “Y-Yeah, fine.”

He wasn’t fine. He didn’t look fine by a long shot, and you sure as hell noticed. You swiveled your head in between him and the crowd of people in front of you before it finally dawned on you that he could have crowd anxiety. Instead of encouraging him to follow you, you dug into your pocket and fished out your keys. “Here,” you said tossing them to him. “Head back and preheat the oven for me?” you asked sweetly.

He caught the keys in his right hand. “Y-You trust me to go back to your apartment alone? You don’t think I’ll rob you or anything?”

You shrugged. “There’s really nothing of material value in there. And besides, you’ve never given me any reason not to trust you and I kinda know where you live.” You shot a teasing grin his way. “Go on, I won’t be long, and it’ll get done that much faster if we divide and conquer, right?”

He paused to consider it before nodding his head. “I’ll see you back there then…”

“Just don’t burn the place down!” you called out to him as he began to retreat.

His shoulders shook slightly with a bout of silent laughter. “I won’t!” he called back.

You settled back onto your heels as you watched him walk away. The smile on your face slowly melted away as he disappeared from sight. You wondered what had happened to him to make him nervous around crowds, but it wasn’t your place to pry or ask. After you couldn’t see him anymore you turned and plunged into the crowd.

Familiar street vendors waved at you from their carts and shouted greetings.

In return you did the same as you walked to Lucinda’s plum cart.

The old lady was sitting in the shade of her awning knitting a pair of electric blue socks. She looked up with a bright grin when she saw you approach. “(y/n)! What a lovely surprise! Making another pie?”

“Always am, it seems,” you responded with an exasperated sigh. “Got any good ones?”

She gave you a knowing smile. “Check the left bin towards the top right,” she said in a low voice.

You did as she suggested and sure enough, when you felt the plums, they were perfectly ripe and just right for the pie you were going to make. You picked up one of the grocery sacks she provided and began to fill it with at least a dozen of the most perfect plums you could find. “Alright, I have thirteen plums. How much?” you asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.

Lucinda had to constantly change the prices from day to day depending on how many people were buying. She, like everyone else in the world, had to make ends meet and the plums were really her only source of real income since she refused to use her husband’s life insurance unless she desperately had to.

She pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “Well, we are having a good day, so your total’ll be seven leu.”

Thank god you never left the apartment with anything less than twenty because you had forgotten to ask James for some money to buy the plums. You pulled a couple of bills from your pocket and handed them to her. “Thanks again, Lucinda!” you called as you tied up the bag.

“Anytime, (y/n). Any time.” She gave you a lazy smile before returning to her knitting.

You took your bag and began to speed walk the couple blocks back to your apartment. Once there, you climbed the stairs two at a time to the ninth floor. Your door was already open a crack and you heard the small clatter of feet and metal on metal behind the door.

You smiled softly and pushed the door open. “I got the plums!”

James jumped at the sound of your voice and turned to face you faster than you could blink brandishing one of your knives as a makeshift weapon. His eyes were hard and fierce in a way you had never seen them before. When he saw you, he lowered the knife. “Holy crap, (y/n), you scared the daylight out of me,” he said putting it down on the counter.

You closed the door behind you. “Sorry, the door was open so I just thought you were expecting me.”

He shook his head. “I was, just not so soon.” He rested his hands, which were still gloved, on the counter and hung his head. His long hair fell forward and covered his face. “I couldn’t figure out how to work your oven,” he admitted with a weak laugh.

Walking behind him, you quickly pressed a couple buttons to get it started and set the plums on the counter. “Don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile. You swiped your baking outfit from the oven’s handle and tied it on over your clothes. “Anyways, now that we have everything, we can get started.” You glanced down at his hands. “You might want to take off your gloves. We’re going to be working with a lot of flour and I’d hate for you to get them all dirty.”

He clenched his left hand into a fist. “Ah, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather keep them on,” he said coldly. “I don’t care about the flour.”

You hesitated before nodding your head. “Alright. You’ll be on filling duty then.” You handed him the grocery bag of plums. “Go ahead and slice enough of these to make four cups.” You pulled a chair from your dining room set over and mounted it. Balancing to counteract its wobbliness, you opened the top cabinet and pulled out your large and small mixing bowls. “Then sprinkle it with about a tablespoon of the lemon juice. It’s okay if you’re a little off. Then after those are done, you’re going to want to mix together a half cup of sugar, maybe a bit more if you like yours sweeter, a fourth cup of flour, and a fourth teaspoon of salt and cinnamon. Once you’ve got those all mixed…” you continued to rattle off instructions to him as you pulled out the things to make the crust. When you had finished you looked at him to make sure he was still with you. “Got it?”

He stared at you dumbstruck. “How the hell do you have this all committed to memory?”

You shrugged with a grin. “My best friend has three kids who love this thing. I’ve made it for nearly every birthday in lieu of a cake. After the twelfth time, you learn you don’t need the recipe card anymore.”

The laugh that came from his mouth made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You wanted to make him laugh again it was that amazing.

“I can see that. I think I’ll be good for now and if I start to screw up you can correct me.” He smirked as he pulled one of your sharper knives from the knife block.

You pulled some measuring cups from a drawer. “You bet your ass I will. You will not defile my glorious pie with your inability to follow directions,” you said waving the teaspoon at his face.

He picked up the cup and began to slice the plums into it. “I’ll do my best.”

The two of you worked side by side, methodically helping each other out when necessary.

James actually wasn’t half bad with the filling. He cut the plums with expert hands that seemed to know exactly how to work the knife. He must have been a chef or something wherever he was before here. He kept up with your instructions and finished the filling in half the time it would normally take you to do it. Impressed with his speed, you tasked him with making the topping while you finished the crust.

All the while you two talked about random things: favorite foods and colors, which was better, cats or dogs, and yourselves. You found out that he had left America for a reason similar to yours, but instead of getting away from super heroes he was trying to get away from his past. He didn’t go into any detail about said past but you understood that whatever it was had to be really bad if it drove him halfway across the world where he knew absolutely no one. From there the two of you talked about future plans. You wanted to someday move out of the apartment and settle down to build a family and he just wanted stability. He said he had been searching for a place to settle down for a year, and was hoping that this place was good enough to stay for a good amount of time. He didn’t sound too optimistic about it though. You tried to tell him it would be okay but he just brushed you off saying, “Whatever’s gonna happen will happen, I just have to deal with it.”

Finally you finished your crust and it came time to assemble the pie. You had him pour the filling while you finished off the topping. After the filling was set, you crumbled the topping over it and stuck it in the oven. “Now we wait an hour,” you concluded as you untied your apron.

James bent down and looked through the glass at the pie. “That’s actually not as complicated as I thought it’d be.”

“Right?” You looped the apron back through the handle. “I’ll make you a copy of the recipe card so you can have it whenever.”

His smile faltered a bit. “I’ll never make it right.”

“Nonsense. You did half of this one and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You bent down next to him and peered in. “See? It looks just like how it normally does.”

“Looking the same and tasting the same are two very different things,” he pointed out.

You shrugged. “You’ll figure it out. I can’t keep making pies for you otherwise I’ll have to start charging for my services.”

“And if I’m willing to pay?” he asked raising an eyebrow as he turned his head slightly towards you.

“I’ll consider it,” you answered quietly. “C’mon.” You stood up fully and walked over to your couch. “I’ve got Netflix so we can watch whatever you want for an hour while we wait.” You plopped down on the right side.

James smiled and joined you sitting on your left. “Alright.”

He chose an older comedy but in truth neither of you really watched it. Instead, like before, you carried out a conversation, talking about whatever came to mind. The hour passed quicker than either of you realized and the timer on the oven going off made the both of you jump in your seats. After the pie had cooled, you both agreed on sharing a slice to test its taste. Much to your delight, you found that it had to be one of the best pies you had ever made.


	4. Chapter 4

“So since when do you invite total strangers over to your place to make pie?” Nicole asked as the two of you worked side by side cooking in her kitchen.

You continued to stir the ciorba in the pot with a shrug. “I don’t know Nic, but he did find my bike and bought everything so I guess I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? But now I can’t get him out of my head and I don’t have the foggiest as to why.”

It had been a little over a week since your little baking experience with James and that little shit had managed to wiggle his way into your mind and stay there.

She breathed a laugh as she tossed the parsley into the soup. “It sounds like you’ve been bit by the love bug.”

You scrunched your nose in disgust. “Ew, no. I just met the guy.”

“Hey, I’m just saying.” She pulled the salt and pepper from the spice drawer and began to sprinkle it into the pot. “When I first met Andrei I was in your exact spot. And now look, fifteen years and three kids later we are happily married and totally in love.” She had a dreamy smile on her face as she spoke, one that she usually got when she spoke about her husband.

You grinned. “Speaking of which, he’ll be here any minute!”

“Oh! (y/n) do me a favor and set the table please. I’ll finish this up,” she said frantically as she dashed to the fridge to get the lemon juice.

“You got it, boss,” you said with a salute and walked over to her bowls and plates cabinet. Opening it, you pulled out six soup bowls and plates and carried them over to her dining set. You set a bowl down on a plate at every spot, straightening them out so they looked pristine and perfect. Then, with the spoons and napkins that were already set out, you began to place a spoon on top of a napkin to the right of every setting. By the time you were done, Nicole was finishing the ciorba and transferring it into a serving bowl.

Just as she had set it down, the front door’s handle jiggled and the door slowly opened. 

Luca looked up from his blocks and screamed, “Daddy!”

All heads in the room snapped towards the door as a man with close cropped sandy blonde hair walked into the apartment carrying a large duffel bag.

Andrei laughed and dropped his bag. “C’mere,” he said as he knelt down to intercept his speeding son.

Luca flew into his arms. “I missed you!” the boy squealed.

“I missed you too bud. Where’re your siblings and mama?” he asked looking up.

Little Alexi pushed himself up to his feet and together he and his older sister ran to tackled their father in a hug, all the while proclaiming how much they missed him.

Nicole stood back with a smile as she watched her family. “Hey, handsome. What am I? Chopped liver?”

Andrei looked up and he smiled. He let go of his kids and ran over to his wife. He scooped her up into a giant hug and pressed his lips against hers. When he finally pulled away, he smiled down at her lovingly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she hummed.

His nose twitched. “Is that ciorba I smell?” he asked.

You cleared your throat. “Just got done.” You smiled. “Welcome home, Andrei.”

He looked over and his smile grew even bigger. “You’re here too. I must have the entire freaking floor here to welcome me home.”

You shook your head. “Wrong. We have a new neighbor.”

Andrei frowned. “Someone moved into Stefan’s old place?”

Nicole grinned evilly. “Yes, and (y/n) has the hots for him,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes. “I do not. I’ve known him for a week.”

She leaned over to her husband with a smirk. “She had him over to bake her pie!”

Your mouth gaped open. “He found my stolen bike! How else was I going to thank him? With my body?” you asked with a laugh.

She gasped. “(y/n)! No! There are children here!”

You laughed harder. “Oh come on, Nic, they’re too young to get it.”

Andrei rolled his eyes. “You’re a menace,” he accused in a teasing tone.

“And yet, you keep me around,” you pointed out. A side smile covered your lips. “I’m starving, let’s eat.”

The whole family plus you crowded around the table and you all took your places. Nicole said a small blessing before she took the serving bowl and dumped a healthy bunch of the ciorba into her bowl. She then passed it along to Andrei who began to do the same.

As you watched Nicole pass the serving bowl to her husband you felt your heart ache. What would it be like to have someone to pass the bowl to who could help fill your child’s bowl? Who would be there sitting right next to you at the dinner table? Your thoughts once again trailed over to James with his brilliant eyes and smile that could make your heart skip a beat. What if he could be that special someone to you? He could be the one you wait for to come home everyday and the one to sleep you off your feet. The one you could settle down and build a family with. The one who could make your dreams a reality. 

Liza held the bowl out to you. “Here you go, Auntie (y/n),” she said sweetly.

That snapped you out of your daze. “Oh, right, thanks kid.” You poured some of the steaming soup into your bowl and then poured a bit into Luca’s next to yours. You then placed the bowl back into the center of the table as everyone’s bowls were filled.

Dinner was spectacular as always. You often told Nicole she should’ve become a chef with her natural gift for cooking. She would disagree; she had to be home for her kids.

As the meal came to a close, you stood up to excuse yourself. “I think you all deserve some family time,” you said taking your dish to the sink. “I’ll leave you all to it. Welcome home, Andrei!” You waved your goodbye and left their apartment. As you walked down the hall towards your apartment, you saw someone standing outside your door. You slowed your pace as you neared, trying to figure out who was there. Nearing the door, you were a little surprised to see a familiar figure in a baseball cap waiting there. “James,” you acknowledged as you walked up to him.

His gaze snapped up to meet yours. “(y/n)! Hey! Uh, that would make sense as to why you weren’t answering your door. You weren’t home.” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head.

You smiled. “Yeah, I was at Nicole’s for dinner. Her husband just got back from Sokovia.”

“Oh, good.” 

“Yeah. So what’s up? Did you need something?” you asked as you moved in front of him to unlock your door. 

“Y-Yeah! I was wondering if you knew anything about amnesia,” he said quietly.

You pursed your lips as you beckoned him to follow you into the room. “I know a little bit. It’s the partial or total loss of memory, right?”

He nodded and sat on your couch. “That’s the one.”

You moved into your kitchen and filled a kettle with water. “I’ve never personally had it or known anyone with it, but I can imagine it’s quite frustrating. Why do you ask?”

He looked around your apartment nervously. 

You stared at him. You’d never seen him this anxious before, not even when you went to the market. He looked so vulnerable and scared, almost as if he was a child who had lost his mother in a store. “James…?” you asked softly as you moved out of the kitchen to sit with him. You turned on the couch so your whole body was facing him. “What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. “I-I went through a lot in my past,” he started slowly. “And there were a lot of times where my memory sort of.. reset, and so now, I’m having a hard time remembering anything before last year. It all comes in bits and pieces and I’m not sure what to do about it. I didn’t want to come to you with this but…” He stopped and shook his head. “You’re the only person I actually feel like I know anymore and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Hey, that’s okay, I’m glad you came to me about this,” you said putting a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched at your touch and wrenched his shoulder away. He stayed still as a statue and his eyes stayed trained on your face in fear like he expected you to turn into a monster and attack. 

Your heart throbbed and you wondered what had happened to him once more. “James, it’s okay,” you said in a calming voice, “it’s just me. Just (y/n). See?” You reached forward, offering your hand to him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

James continued to sit stiffly like a statue, his eyes never leaving your form.

The tea kettle began to whistle as the water came to a boil making the both of you jump.

You looked towards the kitchen. “Sit tight,” you said, jumping over the back of the couch and running towards the kitchen. You pulled two mugs from your cabinet and filled them with the steaming hot water. Reaching into your random assortment of tea bags you pulled out a few. You quickly sniffed each one, searching for a scent of a certain tea. Finally, you found what you were looking for and dumped it into the cup you had gotten for James. You took your tea and his and carried them back out to the couch. “Here,” you said handing him his mug. “It’s calming chamomile, might help you settle down.”

His hand slowly reached out and took the warm cup. “Th-Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely.

You nodded and took your spot back on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it, sit in silence, or something else?” you asked quietly.

“C-Can you just talk?” he asked.

You smiled and began to speak. “I moved here shortly after a building almost fell on me,” you started. “A literal building if you can believe it. I was like ‘Nope, I’m out!’ and I packed everything and left. I was a college student with little money, no career, and no clue as to what I was doing. I bought this apartment for a steal, although, back then it was trashed. The walls were all cracked and crumbling and the floorboards creaked with every step,” you said describing your apartment. You tried to keep your voice as light and humorous as you could while you described your life starting out here. You told him about how you had gotten your job by hacking the company’s site to fix a typo in their bio that had irked you on for months and how you had always wanted to go someplace bigger, settle down, maybe even get a cat or two.

Slowly but surely, his rigid form began to relax, and his face began to show investment in your story. He started to nod along and drink his tea, becoming more active and engaged. As you brought this story to a close, he smiled softly. “Thank you, (y/n).”

You smiled back. “Better now?”

James nodded with a sigh. “Yes, I-I’m sorry about that. I…”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize for it. Especially when it’s a panic attack or something similar. Somethings are just out of your control, and that’s okay,” you said taking a sip of your tea. “Now, about this memory thing.” You set your mug down on the coffee table and stood. “Stefan, the old grouchy guy who lived next door before you, had Alzheimer’s. It’s part of what made him so grouchy.” You walked over to your desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. “He’d get so frustrated with himself over forgetting the things in his life like his son’s age or his granddaughter’s birthday. So, I gave him a journal. I told him to write down everything he thought was important to remember so that way when his brain started to forget, he had a copy of what he needed to remember.” You dug to the bottom of the drawer and pulled out a black leather journal. “So now, I’m going to tell you to do the same.” You walked back to the couch and sat down. You held out the journal to him. “Whenever you remember something, big or small, go ahead and write it down, giving it context and a date if possible. That way, you can kinda piece together your memories and figure out your story.”

He stared at you. “Y-You’re just going to give this to me?”

“Why not? I wasn’t going to ever use it despite my fantasies of finally filling a journal,” you responded with a laugh.

He pulled the journal open, flipping through its blank lined pages. “Thank you,” he said looking up into your eyes.

There goes the stomach flipping again. You managed a smile. “Don’t mention it. Besides, what kind of a shitty friend would I be if I didn’t try to help you out?”

He grinned. “Friends? Is that what we are now?”

“Well I’d think so. I gave you my pie and my tea and I don’t do that for just anybody. Only my friends get those perks.”

“Friends,” he repeated wistfully. “Well, my friends call me Bucky.”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “Bucky? How the hell do they get ‘Bucky’ from ‘James?’”

“From my middle name, Buchanan,” he retorted. “I think my ma used to call me Bucky when I was little and it just stuck.”

You smirked. “Bucky,” you repeated. “I don’t know, James really suits you.”

“Well, you make up your mind on whichever you want to call me, and it’ll be yours,” he said as he finished his tea. “You’ve more than earned the right to call me either."

Your smirk melted into a blissful smile. “I’m glad…”


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next two weeks, Bucky came over more often for the most random reasons. His favorites to use were “My microwave is busted,” and “My TV keeps freezing up.” You had the sneaking suspicion that those weren’t the whole truth though because when ever he came over, he never stayed to do the thing he claimed his apartment wasn’t capable of. You never called him on it though. You enjoyed his company and the chances to get closer to him. You felt like you were really making progress with him. Every visit brought something new. Sometimes it was as small as he didn’t wear his jacket that time or he came over in his slippers instead of shoes, but it was progress showing that he was trusting and becoming more comfortable around you.

* * *

The afternoon was quiet. You had a day off, did some shopping and finally had a bubble bath for the first time in months. Now, fully clean, satisfied, and feeling the best you had a while, you were curled up on your bed in your fluffy yellow pajamas with a book you had been meaning to read. You stared at the page, your eyes glossing over the words, but you weren’t taking in a single word of it. Your mind was elsewhere, specifically on your neighbor.

Bucky was just… well you couldn’t describe him. There was something about him that you couldn’t put your finger on. Maybe it was the way long hair looked strangely good on him or the way he said your name when he was laughing or the way he was so cold in public but had the warmest heart when he was alone with you. 

Over the last three or so weeks you had gotten to know him better. His favorite fruits were plums, he adored old 30′s and 40′s movies and could recite some of them line for line, he was the oldest of four children, and he used to do swing dancing. You never would have expected such an intimidating looking man to have all those quirks, and yet, he was right there in flesh and blood.

Just the thought of him brought a giddy smile to your face. 

A knocking noise pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a moment to register that someone was at the door. You shook your head and came out of your daze. “Coming!” You tossed your book aside, stood up, straightened your pajama bottoms, and jogged over to the door. You opened it up to be greeted with the smell of cherries.

Bucky stood in the threshold holding the platter you had brought him the first plum pie on, only this time, instead of a purple filling you could see a bright red one. 

“Bucky!” you said with a cheerful grin. You opened the door further. “To what do I owe the honor?”

He held out the platter. “I wanted to thank you for the journal and the idea to write it all down. It’s really helped a lot, and I wanted to do something to show my appreciation. So I baked you a pie.” He looked down at the baked good. “It’s my ma’s old recipe. She used to make it for desert on Christmas,” he said softly. “I tried to get it just right, but I wasn’t sure if you liked cherry or not–”

“Bucky,” you interrupted. “It looks amazing. I can’t believe you made me a pie!”

He grinned. “Well, I thought I could return the favor, and your dish,” he said with a laugh.

You jerked your head towards your apartment. “Come on in. I wanna see how this tastes.”

He complied and walked into the room. He kicked off his boots at the door and carried the platter to the counter. “Do you have a cutting knife?”

“Check the knife block,” you said as you pulled two plates down from the cabinet.

He scooted behind you and made his way over to the knife block. “Ah, here we go.” he pulled it out of its slit in the block and carried it over to the pie. After cutting two slices, he carefully set them on the plates.

“Perfect,” you said with a smile. “Now,” you picked up your plate and a fork, “to the balcony!”

“Wait, you have a balcony?” he asked incredulously as he followed you out the back door.

You nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, every apartment on the floor has one.” You pressed down on the handle with your elbow and pushed the door open with your body. “It’s not much, but it’s comfy.”

Your balcony was a modest one, small with a two lawn chairs on either side of an end table and a folding beach chair with a cushion you had bought from a pool. It was covered by the balcony above yours, but the front was open and gave you a wonderful view of the city below. It was definitely one of the best places of the apartment.

You sat down in the lawn chair on the right and crossed your legs. “Shall we see how well it turned out?” you asked taking a piece off the pie with your fork.

James took the other seat and nodded his head. “On the count of three?” he offered as he stuck his own pie on the fork.

“One…” you started, lifting the fork to your lips.

“Two…” he continued, mirroring your actions.

“Three,” you finished and stuck the fork into your mouth.

The cherries filled your mouth, bringing a satisfying taste and feeling with it. James definitely had a way with pies.

“Holy shit this is amazing!” you said as you quickly loaded your fork with another bite.

He beamed at you. “I don’t know about amazing, but I’m so glad it turned out right. It’s just like how Ma used to make it.”

“Really takes you back, doesn’t it?” you asked.

His smile turned sad. “Yeah I miss it.”

You frowned. “You know you can go home, right? No matter what you’ve done you’re still allowed to go home and see your family.”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, it’s not that I don’t feel like I can go home. My mom is… not here anymore. She died a while ago,” he said glancing up at you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you said quickly. Suddenly, you felt you had crossed a line. “I-I didn’t know.”

“Don’t fret about it, doll, it happened years ago. I came to terms with it already and… well, now thanks to your journal idea, I feel like I have a bit more of her back,” he said with a shrug. “And, I wanted to share it with you.”

You smiled softly. “I-I’m honored. I really am. She must have been a wonderful woman to raise such a goods son.”

“She really was,” he agreed. He took another bite of his pie and glanced at you. He chuckled a bit. “You’ve got a little something right there…” he gestured to the corner of his mouth.

You moved your hand to mirror his movement. “Did I get it?”

He chuckled. “No. Move right.”

You followed his instructions.

“Your other right. Okay hang on.” He looked down at his hands and pulled off his right glove. “You’re killing me, doll,” he laughed. He lifted his hand up to your face and cupped your cheek. With his thumb, he swiped at the corner of your mouth.

Your heart hammered against your rib cage. His hand was so soft and worn and it sent sparks through your skin.

And just as fast as his hand was on your skin, it was gone and he was fitting his glove back over his fingers. He smiled up at you. “You might need to bring some napkins out next time.”

You shifted your gaze away from him with an anxious laugh. “Yeah. I’ll drop by the store later.” You glanced down at his hands which were covered in the gloves as they always were. “Hey Buck, can I ask you a personal question?”

He froze as he lifted the bite to his lips. “I guess.”

“Why do you always wear gloves? I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hands before now, and even then I only saw one.”

“Um… my left hand is seriously disfigured. I always keep it covered and, well, it’d be weird to only wear one glove,” he offered with a small smile.

You laughed. “You know I wouldn’t mind if you took them off here, right? I can only imagine how hot it gets in those.”

He shook his head. “No thanks. They’re actually quite comfortable.”

“Fine,” you said, “suit yourself,” and you didn’t bring it up for the rest of the night.

You two continued to chat long after you finished your pie and well past when the sun had set. After wrapping up what was left of the pie and sticking it in the fridge, you bade Bucky goodbye and goodnight. 

You sighed softly as you shut the door. “Bucky, what are you doing to me?” you asked softly as you retreated to your bed.

* * *

Bucky walked back to his own apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. He turned his back on the door and leaned against it. Glancing down, he slowly pulled off his gloves. His metal hand gleamed slightly in the dim light coming from the kitchen light he had forgotten to turn on. He slowly clenched and unclenched it into a fist over and over, the metal plates slightly groaning as they rubbed against each other. He laughed under his breath. “’Disfigured,’ yeah that’s the word for it,” he mocked to himself. He tossed the gloves down onto his mattress and looked down at himself. Who was he kidding. He’d never be able to show you his hands. You’d think he was a monster once you drew the connection between the metal arm and the Winter Soldier.

But he wanted to show you so badly. You had said that you wouldn’t mind and he wanted to believe you. God, how he wanted to believe you. He wanted to show you who he was and have you accept him for him. He wanted you to know every aspect of him, but he was afraid of losing you, of losing the friendship that had slowly developed without him even realizing what was happening. He was happy to just be “James the neighbor,” but he knew he couldn’t keep up the facade for long.

He stared out the window at the city’s skyline. He just wondered how long it would be until his past caught up to him, and how long it would be until it hurt you.


	6. Chapter 6

Some days you really hated where your coworkers planned events. The annual corporate barbecue was scheduled to take place at a local American grill that served good food. Google maps told you it was only a fifteen minute walk away from your building, but you should’ve learned by then that Google _lied,_ only giving relative time and never taking into account the amount of foot traffic on the sidewalks or forced detours due to construction. Twenty-five minutes into your walk, you began to wish you had just taken your bike as your feet were dying in your low heels and the coat you were wearing was starting to get really hot.

Just as you felt the blisters beginning to rise on your ankles, the grill entered your sight. “Oh thank god,” you muttered as you half jogged the final stretch to its front.

Karen, your floor’s secretary, was greeting your coworkers as they entered. You filed into the line leading to the restaurant’s main dining area.

Most of the tables had been shoved to the side of the venue in lieu of a long buffet style table loaded with food. People mingled around with their small plates filled with food. You could only imagine the amount of money your business was paying to rent the entire restaurant for the night and deny them the profits that they could’ve gotten from clients that night.

You reached the front of the line and Karen flashed you a winning smile. “(y/n)! So glad you could make it!”

You put on the biggest smile you could. “Thanks, Karen! The food looks so yummy!”

“It always is! Why don’t you go on and get some food and I’ll see you later?”

You nodded and passed her into the restaurant towards the buffet table.

You recognized a lot of the people there from your floor and the neighboring floors at Cyrotechnics. They would occasionally acknowledge your presence, giving you a small nod or wave which you would return. 

You grabbed a plate and filled it with some of your favorites before grabbing a small glass of water and going to mingle. You walked over to a group of people from your security division. “Hey guys,” you said.

The person to your right, a girl from a cubicle down the row from you, perked up. “(y/n)! You came!”

You plastered the realest smile you could manage on your face. “Yeah. I had nothing better to do on a Friday night and figured that if I came I wouldn’t have to make dinner tonight.”

She laughed. “Food isn’t a good motivator, ain’t it?”

You nodded with a laugh and turned to the man standing across from you in the group. “Jeff! Congratulations on that promotion last week! Didn’t tell you you’d get it?”

Jeff nodded with a laugh. “Yes. I have learned never to question your intuition again.”

“Wise choice,” said a new voice.

You turned to its source to see Karen coming over with a small liquor glass in her hand filled with what you felt safe to assume was whiskey. She was smiling brightly. “(y/n)’s good at predicting stuff like that.”

“That she is,” Jeff agreed.

You kinda zoned out of the conversation after that as it turned to company gossip that you didn’t really care much about. Honestly, you didn’t care much to be at events like these. They bored you to no end, but you were obligated to go to make it seem like you enjoyed your job and liked the people you worked with. You didn’t mind them, but sometimes it was a little much. It was only when Karen addressed you that’s you snapped out of your daze.

“So, (y/n), find a man yet?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows over the rim of her glass as she sipped the whiskey inside.

You choked on your drink and stared at her. “W-What?”

She nodded. “A man. Boyfriend, one and only, that special someone,” she clarified.

You quickly shook your head. “No. There’s no special someone in my life. Unless you count the cats I’ll eventually adopt,” you answered with a nervous laugh.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “There’s no interest in anyone? What about Mark from HR? He could make a good boyfriend.”

You hid your grimace. Mark from HR was a guy who had been not so secretly pining after you for a few months. He was a nice guy, but he was too fancy and stuck up for your liking. “No, thank you. He’s not my type.”

“Ooh, you have a type? What is it? I’ll try to hook you up.” The smile on her face was so large and devious that one could practically see the meddling gears turning in her head.

Your thoughts immediately trailed to Bucky. He could be your type. Tall, dark, and brooding but a real softy on the inside. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he probably was your type… You shook your head once more. “That’s not necessary, Karen,” you said to politely turn her down. “I think I’m good for now being single.”

She smirked. “Well if that ever changes, you know where to find me, love.” She winked at you before moving on to the next group of people.

You didn’t stay much longer after that. It had begun to get dark out and the city wasn’t the nicest place at night. So, a quarter after ten, you said your goodbyes and left the restaurant.

The walk home was long and lonely. There were hardly any people out at that time, most having already made it home to their nice warm beds. You wished you could’ve been there right then as thunder crackled overhead.

You quickened your pace a bit and your thoughts began to trail off to the conversation you had with Karen. You’d said, “I think I’m good for now being single,” but was that really the truth? If it was, why did your heart ache whenever you thought of Bucky? Why did you wish his hand would hold yours? Why did you wish you could call him yours?

Thunder crackled once more overhead and rain slowly began to fall from the sky. You looked up, squinting at the darkness clouds in annoyance. “Seriously?” you asked to no one in particular. You pulled your jacket’s hood over your head to try and keep as dry as possible. After all, you still had three blocks to go.

You sighed as you walked, your shoes sloshing in the water. What were you going to do? You couldn’t just randomly walk up to James and say, “Hey, I think I’m in love with you since you seem to always be on my mind and give me a severe case of the butterflies. Please go out with me.” The guy would think you were psychotic.

But then again maybe he was right to think so. Who falls for someone in less than a month? Certainly no normal person would rush in that fast, but at the same time you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t felt this close to anybody besides Nicole, and even then, the feelings went way deeper than just a good friendship. You craved his touch ever since he had touched your cheek to get the bits of pie off your face when he had brought you his cherry pie. Some part of you wondered what it would feel like to be in his embrace and to fall asleep in his arms. To feel those hands again on your skin, keeping constant contact with you, would be heavenly, you thought.

As you rounded the corner onto a new block, a figure stepped out from the shadows and fell into line behind you, his pace matching every step of yours.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you felt his gaze lock on you. You risked a glance back.

The stranger was dressed in all black with a hood pulled low over his head. His right hand twirled a little rectangular object through his fingers repeatedly. Every once in a while, the light would catch it properly and it’d gleam silver.

You quickened your pace as an unsettling feeling buried itself in the pit of your gut. You just had to make it back to your building. If you could get there, the attendant at the front could help you. 

The footsteps behind you became heavier and faster; he was keeping up with you.

You glanced once more over your shoulder before you positioned yourself to break out into a sprint but you were stopped by a hand over your mouth an a point being pressed to your back stopped you. 

You inhaled sharply as much as the hand over your mouth would let you and panic began to set in. You squirmed in your assailant’s arms as you tried to worm your way out.

He tightened his arm around you, digging the point deeper into your back. “Scream, and you die,” whispered a heavy Russian accent. “Nod if you understand.”

You shakily nodded your head, trembling in his grasp.

He hesitantly removed his hand from your mouth. “Walk.”

“Please… don’t—” you started to say, but you were cut off.

“Shut up and do as I say,” he barked quietly.

The point in your back, which you assumed to be the sharp end of the blade, pushed further your back making you wince. You followed its prodding. “P-Please,” you whimpered. “Please take my money. I don’t care just don’t hurt me.”

“I said shut up,” he snapped again as he drove it further in, pricking your skin just enough to draw a small, singular drop of blood.

You winced and shut your mouth as he guided you down into an alleyway that had been to your right. 

Your panicked and erratic breathing was hardly audible over the sound of the rain, but to you it was the loudest sound in the world. _This isn’t happening,_ you thought to yourself. _It can’t be. I’m dreaming. If I close my eyes and open them again I’ll be in my bed in a pair of soft PJ’s and this will all have been a sick, twisted dream._ You squeezed your eyes shut tight and opened them again, but the scenery never changed. You were still soaking wet from the rain and a knife was still at your back. Your eyes burned as frightened tears threatened to spill.

He slowed to a stop as you were close to the brick wall at the end. “Stand against the wall,” he ordered gruffly.

You obeyed, turning to face him as you pressed your back against the chilled bricks. The rain masked the tears as they began to roll down your face. You stared at him as he paced in front of you, like a predator figuring out the best was to disembody its prey.

He sneered at you. “You’re going to be hurt, unless you can tell me something. Tell me where he is. Tell me where your precious boyfriend is.” he demanded as he slowed to a stop. “Where is he?”

Fuck, this guy was insane. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know who you’re talking about. I don’t have a boyfriend!”

“Liar!” he screamed and he swiped the blade across your cheek.

You gasped in shock as it drew a perfectly thin line over your cheek bone. You slowly lifted your hand to the wound. The fresh blood, just barely sliding from the opening, covered your fingertips. “Please. You must have me confused with someone else!” you stammered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your breathing began to grow shallow and rapid as he stalked closer to you.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your precious _James_.” He spat the name like it was poison on his tongue and shoved his knife in your direction once more. “Tell me where he is!” 

“I don’t know where he is!” you cried out. “I haven’t seen him! Please just let me go!” Your mind couldn’t even process that he wanted James or wonder _why_ he wanted him. All you could focus on was the knife he held in his hand and how uncomfortably close it was to you.

He was suddenly right in front of you, one hand grasping the front of your shirt in a tight fist and the other holding the knife against your neck. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

The cool, wet metal was haunting on your neck as the only thoughts that ran through your head were, _This is it. This is how I’m going to die._ Your body trembled uncontrollably and you shut your eyes again. “Please,” you begged once more, though you don’t know if you were begging him to let you go or to just do what he was going to do already.

Suddenly the metal was wrenched away from your neck and his hold on you was gone.

You crumpled to the ground, your knees having given out from beneath you. You grasped at your neck, feeling for any damage, but there was nothing different about it. Grunting and the sounds of fists hitting a body drew your attention away from your body. You lifted your head to see what caused the sudden change and you swore you were dreaming.

The man that once held a knife to your throat was now laying on the ground with blood pouring from his nose and mouth, being hit repeatedly in the chest by a person you knew all too well.

Bucky was pounding away, throwing punch after punch, his eyes ablaze.

You watched him in a mixture of awe and alarm. “B-Bucky!” you sputtered out.

He halted his attack, his fist raised midair, and he turned to face you. You’d never seen him so angry or scared before. His eyes were steeled and harsh, quite the contrast to their usual warmth and his entire body was rigid. He slowly turned his head to you. “(y/n)…” he said, his voice cracking. He quickly stood and rushed over to you. “Shit…” The anger was gone from his features within a second and replaced with concern. He knelt down in front of you, reached into his pocket and pulled out a rag. After checking its cleanliness, he lifted it up to your face and dabbed at the blood that was still flowing freely from your cheek.

You stared at his face, still amazed that he was even there. “Bucky,” you said again, the terror of your reality finally catching up with you. “Oh my god, Bucky!”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay, I’m here now,” he murmured. “Can you stand?”

You nodded shakily and slowly rose to your feet.

He helped you up, allowing you to support yourself with his body. He wrapped his arm around your waist. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The two of you walked through the rain to your apartment building, him half carrying you and you stumbling along after him. Once you got to the building, he helped you hobble up the stairs. “Almost there, (y/n)…” he would mumble to you when he felt you stumble or trip. “Just a few more flights of stairs.”

You hardly paid any attention to his words, you were still in the processing stages of what had just happened. Your mind repeated the sequence like a mantra: walking home, hand over mouth, knife at back, in the alley, _where is he_ , cut, _where is James_ , this is it, Bucky is here, going home. To say you were shaken up was an understatement. You kept stealing glances at him as your mind constantly flashed him between the Bucky who was walking next to you and the Bucky who had attacked your assailant.

You’d never seen him like that, and it scared you a bit. In that moment, the Bucky you had grown to know and care about had disappeared and was replaced with someone much more violent. He had no qualms about beating the man senseless and his motions were so fluid and natural that it didn’t seem real.

You reached the ninth floor and walked towards your door. Your shaking hands reached towards your bag to grab your keys, but they were stopped by his.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he said as he unlocked his door. “Come on in,” he coaxed quietly as if he was talking to a frightened animal.

You complied and followed him into his apartment.

You’d never actually been in the apartment before, not even when Stefan lived there. The layout was similar to yours, but he had his furniture set up differently. In front of his couch and to the side was a bare mattress with a simple sleeping bag spread on top of it. His kitchen was pretty sparse with a couple dishes littered around his open cabinets. On top of his mini fridge was a little jug with cooking utensils and a large water bottle. The journal you had given him was sitting on the counter with colorful marking tabs sticking out of it. 

He led you in and sat you down on the couch. “Wait here,” he ordered quietly as he walked into his bathroom. 

You shifted your weight on the plush cushions nervously. For some reason you felt like you were invading his personal space by being here and every fiber of your being was screaming at you to get out. 

He emerged moments later opening a small white box with a red cross on the lid. He knelt down in front of you and pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton swabs. He dampened the cotton swab and looked up at the cut on your cheek. “This is going to hurt,” he warned as he lifted it up to your face.

You nodded and closed your eyes to brace for the sting. As soon as the antiseptic came in contact with your wound you hissed in pain.

He winced and pulled the swab away murmuring an apology. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I-It’s okay,” you responded quietly. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. It’s my fault that you got… I should have known something like this would happen if I got too close. I should’ve fucking known,” he cursed, the agitation rising in his voice. “I never should’ve gotten you involved, and now…” He looked up at you with pained eyes and continued to clean the cut on your cheek.

Your gaze softened. “Bucky no… It’s not your fault. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

He smiled sadly. “Doll, I could’ve known. I _should’ve_ known that the second I tried to get close to someone, fate would rip them away from me. It always has, why wouldn’t it now?” He reached down into the first aid kit and took out a few small bandages that were meant to hold cuts together and began to space them evenly onto your cut.

“Because I don’t believe fate would be that cruel, least of all to you,” you said reaching out to cup his cheek. 

He shook his head. “It seems to hate me the most, and wants to show that by taking it out on those I love. I should just go away. That could be the only way to protect you.” 

You’re heart skipped a beat. “N-No. Don’t go.”

He laughed bitterly. “I have to if I want to or protect you. It’s the only way to keep people from coming after you.”

You reached up to grab his hand. “Bucky, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you said as you looked at him. “Why would you say that?”

He looked down and shook his head. “I’m a dangerous man, (y/n). People out there want to hurt me, but they know they can’t attack me directly so they’ll go after those I care about. And that means you.” He bit his lip gently. “I can’t let you get hurt.”

“Bucky, you are anything but dangerous,” you said, your grip on his hand tightening. “You saved my life.”

“After I put it in jeopardy in the first place.” He shook his head. “But you want to know the worst part is? I don’t want to leave you, even if it means you’re in trouble. I’m a selfish bastard aren’t I?”

“No!” you answered quickly. “No you aren’t at all.” You slid off the couch to kneel in front of him on the ground. “If anyone’s selfish, it’s me. _I_ don’t want you to leave me because I…”

He lifted his gaze to meet yours. Hopeful but scared, he waited for you to continue. 

“I care about you, Bucky,” you admitted. “I care about you more than I have cared about anyone in a long, _long_ time. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to leave me. You say you’re dangerous but I don’t see it and never have. You say the best way to protect me is to leave me, but what about staying here where you can be there if i need you? Bucky, I don’t want you to go, so please stay.”

He looked conflicted and you could tell there was some sort of internal war raging inside his head.

“Please,” you whispered quietly.

He broke. His arms wrapped around your torso tightly and his face buried itself in the crook of your neck. “I don’t want to go,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to leave you because I care about you too. I just don’t want you to end up hurt because of me like you didn’t tonight. I’m so toxic, (y/n). I’ll only drag your life down into the darkness.”

You hugged him back, your heart alight with joy at the thought of him staying. “I’ll be the judge of that. So far you’ve brought nothing but joy to my life, and I’m not ready to let that go just yet.”

His body shook, but with tears or laughter you weren’t sure. “I’m not ready either,” he said.

“Then don’t go. Stay here,” you said as you pulled away to look at him. “Stay with me.”

His blue eyes locked onto yours and a soft smile covered his lips. “Okay… I’ll stay for now.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Bucky nodded. “You should rest. You’ve been through a lot tonight,” he said quietly. 

“Oh, yeah.” You moved to stand up and grab your bag to leave, but his hand grasping yours stopped you.

“Stay,” he requested. “Just for the night. It’ll ease my mind if I can see you’re okay.”

You nodded without hesitation. “Okay.” 

The truth was you would probably sleep better with him around anyways. You still felt pretty shaken up from earlier and knowing that he would protect you made you feel safer than you’d feel if you stayed at your own place tonight.

You peeled off your jacket which was still wet from the rain and folded it neatly. “Um, is there some place I can put these so they don’t get your furniture wet?”

“Yeah, go ahead and dump them in the tub,” he said as he stood. “I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He made his way over to the small dresser and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants and a green t-shirt. “Here, you can go ahead and change in the bathroom.

You took the bundle of clothes into your arms and retreated into his bathroom. You shut and locked the door behind you and began to strip out of your damp clothes. The cool air hit your skin causing you to shiver slightly. You quickly pulled on his sweatpants and shirt, both of which were a few sizes too large for you. You looked at your reflection in the mirror and sighed.

You looked like a mess. The makeup you had worn had run down your face from the rain and tears making your partially resemble a raccoon, not to mention the dried blood on your cheek, and your hair was damp and messy. You groaned and opened the small cabinet under the sink to look for a washcloth. After doing a little bit of hunting, you came up triumphant. You ran the washcloth under the water and wiped your face while being careful with the nasty gash on your cheek, silently promising Bucky that you’d wash it later. After a few moments, your face was completely clear of the makeup and blood and you began to brush your fingers through your hair to comb out whatever tangles you could. Once you deemed yourself somewhat presentable, you tossed your damp clothes into the tub and straightened out your temporary outfit. 

As you glanced down at the shirt, you cautiously took the fabric in your hand and lifted it up to your nose. You’d always been curious as to what Bucky smelled like, never knowing because he had never been close enough or your mind had always been too frantic and busy to really pay attention. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. A small smile covered your lips as the scent of coffee and old books mixed with a faint touch of gunpowder filled your nose. It was an odd combination, but a very comforting one to you. 

A small knock at the door drew you from your thoughts. 

“(y/n)? You doing alright in there?” came Bucky’s voice from the other side of the wood.

Your head perked up. “Y-Yeah! I’ll be out in a second.” You dropped the shirt and rolled your shoulders back. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. 

Bucky was standing over the couch, draping a thin sheet over its cushions. He had already changed out of his damp clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved hoodie. His hands were still covered in gloves. He glanced over his shoulder as you emerged from the bathroom, a small smile on his face. “I tried to get the sleeping bag as comfortable for you,” he said nodding his head at the mattress. “Sorry it isn’t much. I still haven’t gotten around to buying a bed frame or sheets yet.”

“No, you should take your own bed,” you said. “I’m perfectly okay with the couch.”

He smirked up at you. “I’m not going to fight you on this. You’re taking the mattress even if I have to tie you down to it.”

You laughed. “Okay, tough guy. I yield. You can go ahead and put the threats away.” 

He nodded and sat down on the couch. “Go ahead and sleep, (y/n). I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nodded and clamored over to the mattress. You carefully climbed into the sleeping bag and turned on your side so your back faced him. As you closed your eyes, you could detect more of his unique scent on the bag’s fabric. It brought a smile to your face. You inhaled deeply and snuggled into it.

You could hear Bucky shifting on the couch behind you. “Goodnight,” he said in a low voice.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said back. Sleep took you over slowly, but when it came, it was the best sleep you had had in awhile.


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky didn’t get a wink of sleep at all that night. His nerves kept him up as every single little noise sent flashes of panic through his brain. At every creak of a floorboard outside or random whine from his crappy air conditioning, he was swept with a new wave of alertness, ready to attack if someone decided to break his door down.

This sense of alertness wasn’t uncommon in his nights, he was always paranoid that someone was going to come for him, but that night he was extra aware because not only was his life on the line, but yours was too. 

He couldn’t describe the feeling of total and absolute guilt that he felt at the thought of you getting hurt by someone after him. Every time he glanced over and saw the red thin line covering your cheekbone his chest ached. He could have sworn that that an anvil was sitting squarely on his chest with how bad the pain was.

After five hours of tossing and turning, he gave up on sleep and crawled off the couch to sit next to the mattress you were sleeping soundly on figuring that if he was closer to you to protect you, he could rest easier.

For hours he sat idly, watching you to make sure you weren’t having a nightmare or having anything ail you. All the while, you and your words stayed on his mind. 

You had told him you cared about him and didn’t want him to leave, and it drew forth a foreign feeling in his heart. For once, it dared to hope that there was a future waiting in store for him now that he was actually wanted by someone. He wondered if you would still want him if you found out about his history.

He leaned against the side of the mattress and turned his head so he could observe your features. He reached out gingerly with his flesh hand and brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek.

Underneath his touch, you took a small content breath and smiled. Your body shifted slightly so it was closer to him. 

He smiled softly and rested his hand on your forehead, drawing small circles on your skin. 

He was so scared of you getting hurt while being around him, but he decided that, if you were okay with it, you were worth it.

* * *

You were awoken by sunlight hitting your eyelids. You kept your eyes shut and wrinkled your nose. Didn’t you close those blinds last night? And what was that smell? Bacon? You weren’t making bacon. Who the hell was making bacon? You slowly opened one of your eyes to be welcomed by unfamiliar surroundings. Alarm filled your being and you sat up quickly. “Oh, fuck, too quickly,” you murmured as you felt the blood rush from your head.

You were answered with a deep chuckle. “You okay over there?”

You pressed a hand to your aching head. “Yup, just sat up a little…” You trailed off and looked around.

Bucky stood in the kitchen over his stove where the sizzling of bacon cooking could be heard. He was looking at you with a small smile. “Too fast?”

“Y-Yeah…” you squinted. “Why the hell am I in your apartment?” You looked down as you stretched your neck, halting in the motion as you saw clothes that were _not_ yours on your body. “And _why the hell_ am I in _your_ clothes?” Every single warning, alarm, and panic light was going off in your head. What the hell had happened last night?

Bucky slid the spatula he was using under the slices of bacon and lifted them over to a plate. “You stayed here last night after you were attacked. You borrowed some of my clothes because yours were drenched from the rain, but they should be dry now if you think they’ll be more comfortable.” He carried the plate over to the small table right outside his kitchen and set it down on its surface. He pulled out the chair and eased himself into it.

You crawled off the mattress and stood up, spine popping satisfyingly as you stretched. “N-No, I’m okay. Your clothes are surprisingly comfortable.” You walked over and took a seat on the chair across from him.

The remark brought a smile to his face. “I’m glad you think so. You are welcome to borrow them anytime.” He pushed the plate full of bacon closer to you. “I didn’t know what you’d want for breakfast so I figured bacon was a safe bet as most people like it. But if you want something else I’d be happy to make it for you.”

You shook your head. “No, the bacon is just fine. Thank you,” you smiled and took a strip, biting into it. The savory taste of the meat coated your tongue and brought a small smile to your face and joy to your surprisingly starving stomach.

Bucky watched you as you ate, his eyes distant as if he was thinking deeply.

You swallowed your bite and waved your hand in front of his eyes. “Hello? Earth to Bucky, come in, Bucky.”

He blinked rapidly and sat up straighter. “Huh?”

“Whats going on in that head of yours?” you asked as you tilted your head.

He shook his head gently. “Not much, just thinking.”

“About…?” you prompted.

His eyes flickered downwards and he rested his covered hand on the table. “About last night, and what I… What we both admitted,” he responded quietly.

_Fuck._

“O-Oh,” you stuttered, suddenly becoming very interested in the slice of bacon you had been holding. “That…”

His eyes became concerned and disappointed. “If you didn’t mean it I’ll understand. I just—”

“No!” you quickly said. “No I meant it I just…” You felt the heat rising to dangerous levels on your cheeks and you could swear you were red as a firetruck. “Crap this is not how I wanted this to go.”

He chuckled, his disappointment fading fast from his features. “It’s okay. I had a feeling it was going to happen eventually.” He smiled kindly. 

You laughed lightly. “Was my little crush that obvious?” you asked.

“No, actually you did a good job at hiding it. I on the other hand….” He exhaled sharply. “I felt I needed to tell you now or I’d never get the chance again.” After a small pause, he opened his mouth and continued, “I wasn’t lying when I said I cared about you too. I care about you like I haven’t cared about anyone in a long, _long_ time. You bring joy to my life and it’s something I haven’t experienced in a while.” He shook his head with a grin. “You make me feel like I can actually have something normal, and I appreciate that so much. From day one, you’ve been nothing but good to me, and I’ve found myself being drawn closer and closer to you with each day.” He hesitated. “And before I propose anything and before you make any decisions, you have to know some things. My past is dark and there’s things in it that I never want to involve you in. That guy last night was only the tip of the iceberg of the kind of hell that will come after you for being near me. There’s so much that could happen.”

You reached across the table and gripped his hand gently. “Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But for now, let’s just focus on what we have right here in front of us, and that is two people, totally confused on what to do next.”

He gave a weak laugh before lowering his gaze. “I’m scared, (y/n). I’ve never been more terrified about anything else in my life. I don’t want to hurt you in any way, shape, or form, but, if you’re willing,” at this he lifted his head to look at you and smiled, “I’d like to give this a chance; give _us_ a chance.” 

You felt dizzy with excitement as your heart jumped in your chest. “R-Really?” you asked in disbelief.

He took his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Yes, if you’ll let me, I would like to try. I came here to find a sense of normalcy again, and so far you have done the most out of anyone to make me… well, _me_ again.”

You nearly squealed with delight. “Are you serious? You’re not pulling my leg here, right?”

He shook his head. “I’m not pulling anything, (y/n). I promise.”

You couldn’t contain your smile. “Then, yes. I guess yes. Let’s try it.”

He chuckled. “I’m rusty,” he admitted. “I haven’t dated in years, but I promise I will do my best.”

You nodded. “So long as you don’t treat me like trash, I think you’ll be pretty good.”

He grinned. “Then I hope I won’t disappoint.” His bright smile melted off to reveal a serious expression . “But if we’re going to do this, there’s somethings you’re going to have to do for me, just to give me peace of mind.”

You chuckled. “Anything. Just name it.”

* * *

You stared up at Bucky as he was balancing on an uneven step stool and drilling holes into the little corner where two walls met your ceiling. “You know, when I said anything, I didn’t mean you could install a security camera in my apartment.”

Bucky barely glanced down. “Ah, nope. You said I could do anything. No take backsies.”

You laughed. “‘No take backsies?’ What are you, a child?”

He paused his drilling and looked down at you under his arm. With the most serious look you had ever seen on a human face, he answered, “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You turned your back on him and walked to the kitchen. “I’m going to make some tea. You want any?” you called out to him as you retrieved the kettle.

You were answered by a large crash, a string of curse words, and the distinct sound of a rather large body hitting the floor. You turned your head just in time to see him tumbling down from the step stool. “Bucky!” you screamed as he landed hard on his left side. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

He groaned and slowly propped himself up using his right arm. “Oh, shit, that hurt.”

You abandoned the kettle and rushed over to him. “Is it broken? Here,” you reached out to grasp his arm. “Let me—”

“No!”

But he protested too late. You had already grabbed his arm and slid his sleeve up to check the damage, but, instead of seeing flesh like you had expected, you were met with the sleek surface of metal plates that shifted in your grasp.

He wrenched his arm away and slid the sleeve back down. “(y/n), it’s not what it looks like, I swear.”

You stared at him incredulously, your mouth hanging open slightly as you wracked your brain for a reasonable explanation to help make you comprehend that his arm seemed to be made of metal. “Buck, what the…?”

He looked down ashamed. You could see the gears turning in his head, but you couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

* * *

Bucky was cursing himself for being careless. You had seen his arm and he didn’t know how to explain to you yet how he got it, what it was, or who he was because of it.

“I can explain!” he hastily said as he backed away. His mind reeled with quick explanations he could make believable. “Lost it in an accident,” seemed to be a good excuse but how could he make up a story for the ridiculously advanced prosthetic? He’d just have to wing it.

You looked at him expectantly. “Explain,” you said in a quiet command.

He hesitated before pulling off his gloves to reveal his hands. One flesh and one metal were exposed to you, and he began to speak. “I was serving in the army, doing my part to help my country when was called overseas to war. On a mission, I fell off a train and lost my arm. A traveling doctor found me, saved my life, and gave me an experimental prosthetic, this arm here,” he explained as he rolled up his sleeve. He refused to lie to you but chose to leave out certain details like the war he fought in was the Second World War decades ago or that the doctors were from HYDRA and they gave him the arm only to turn him into a living weapon. He couldn’t pull you into that aspect of his life yet.

You stared at his arm, your expression unreadable to him. He could only imagine what you thought of the situation. You bit your lip gently before taking a cautious step forward. “May I?” you asked as you reached your hand out.

He nodded and offered you his arm. The artificial nerves embedded in the metal crackled to life as your fingers touched the metal’s surface. He could register your body heat, feel your pulse through the pads of your fingers and the pressure of your grasp as you felt the surface.

Your face fell. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t think it was important,” he said nonchalantly. _I didn’t want you to know I was a monster._

You barked a laugh. “Not important? _You have a freaking metal arm!_ If I had known this sooner I would’ve been asking you to carry all my junk up the stairs from the get go!” Your small frame shook with laughter.

He stayed silent, a little bit hesitant to respond positively to your quick acceptance. “Y-You’re not scared?” he asked cautiously.

“Scared? Why would I be scared? Sure you have a prosthetic, lots of people do. My old neighbor was missing a leg. He had a prosthetic leg, but his wasn’t nearly as cool as yours.” You shook your head, your (h/c) hair falling slightly into your face. “No, if anything I’m a little sad you hadn’t told me earlier. You’d think that’s off we were gonna start dating that might be something you need to mention. Especially if I decide to pop in one day and you’re suddenly missing an arm.” You snickered. “That’d be a _fun_ conversation.”

His heart fluttered for what felt like the millionth time that morning. “Yeah… It would, wouldn’t it.”

You chuckled and smiled softly. You reached over again and took both his hands. “Bucky, don’t think that for a moment this changes how I see you. You’re still James, or Bucky, or both, and this arm is just as much a normal part of you as anything else. Okay? I don’t mind, and I don’t want you to think I do.” You squeezed his hands. “No more hiding.”

He slowly nodded, and for a moment he felt as if there was nothing that could alter the elation he felt.

Until there came a knock on the door.

* * *

You let go of his hands as you looked up at the door. Your brows furrowed. “That’s odd… I don’t get too many visitors, especially this early in the day,” you remarked curiously as you started walking towards the door.

Bucky quickly reached out and took your shoulders. “Wait,” he cautioned. “Let me check first.”

You frowned. “Buck, it’s my apartment, I can answer my own door if I want to.” You shot him a teasing smirk. “You got to put up security system, I get to cover the door.” You quickly stepped over the empty boxes and packaging hate littered your floor and scurried to your door. You unlocked and opened it to be greeted by a friendly but concerned face.

Nicole looked over your body worriedly. “Are you okay? We heard a crash and didn’t know if you fell or— Oh my god! What happened to your face?”

You bit your lip to stifle your laugh. “It’s nice to see you too. I didn’t fall, that was James being a goof. As for my face, I got mugged last night and the guy pulled a knife.”

“ _Who_ what and he did _what_?” she demanded.

You sighed and I opened your door further. “It’s a long story. You want some tea?”

She nodded and walked into your apartment, halting when she saw the mess and man in the main area. “What the hell is going on in here? You better have a good explanation for this young lady.”

You tolled your eyes as you filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove. “You know, just because you have ten years on me doesn’t make me ‘young lady.’ Anyways, Nicole, this is James, the guy next door and I guess, boyfriend?” you asked looking at him for confirmation, after all, you were still figuring this whole thing out, He nodded in approval, a small smile covering his lips. “James, this is our psychotic neighbor and my best friend Nicole.”

Much to your disappointment, he had rolled his sleeve back down and recovered his metal hand with his leather glove. He raised his flesh hand in a greeting and nodded to acknowledge her presence.

She stood there dumbstruck. “Boyfriend?! When the fu—”

She was cut off by a young voice. “Mommy!” Luca cried as he ran down the hall towards his mother. “Is Auntie (y/n) alright?”

Andrei came bounding after him and scooped Luca up into his arms. “Sorry. I couldn’t hold him any longer and Alexi was…” He trailed off as his eyes locked on something—or rather, _someone_ —behind you. “Who’s that?”

Bucky had crept up behind you so he was standing at your back and peering over your shoulder. 

Nicole nudged his shoulder. “Andrei, this is the guy I was telling you about. He’s the one (y/n) had over to make the pie.”

His eyes widened. “So _you’re_ him! Wow!”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by the padding of little feet against the hardwood of the hall. 

“Mama!” cried a little voice.

Nicole looked back. “Alexi! Liza? Can you come get your brother?”

The little girl followed after the small child. “Sorry, Mom! He wanted to come with you guys and I put him down to get a drink of water and he ran.”

You groaned as you looked at the whole family standing in your entryway. “Guys, really? What? Is my apartment the whole-new-gathering place or something?”

Nicole’s eyes snapped away from her children to your face. She blinked for a moment as if she had forgotten as to why she had rushed over. “Right, no, it’s not, but you have a lot of explaining to do. Start with what happened to your face and finish up with whatever the hell is going on between you two,” she said pointing a finger at you.

You complied, telling her about getting attacked last night and how Bucky, or James as you called him around the others (Bucky was just too personal a nickname for you to give to them freely), saved you by _heroically_ swooping in to save you before any real damage could be done. You then told them about how he had brought you back to his place and gotten you patched up and how you had both unintentionally confessed your feelings to each other. The rest, you told them, was history and the reason someone had fallen was because “James was being a total idiot and had nearly gotten himself killed trying to install a security system because he was a paranoid little punk.” However, you found it best not to mention the fact about his arm to them. You figured that was his secret to tell.

They hung onto your every word, and when you were done, the smiles on their faces were uncomparable.

Sniffing, Nicole smiled widely at you. “Look at my little baby! All grown up and getting herself a boyfriend!”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re my best friend, not my mother. I am not your baby.”

Andrei was also grinning. “How did you manage to convince her to get a security system?” he asked Bucky.

Bucky smiled slightly. “I told her it’d give me peace of mind, and she decided to go along with it, much to my delight.”

You chuckled. “You were going to do it anyways, so I figured it might be better if I just went along with it.”

Nicole looked at you and squealed. “I’m so happy for you both.”

You beamed at her. “Thank you.” You glanced over at Bucky and shared a smile with him.

She nodded and looked around. “Oh! We’re intruding, aren’t we?” She quickly stood up and ushered her family to do the same. “It was so nice to meet you, James. I feel a little better now that I know you’re looking out for our poor dear (y/n).” 

You rolled your eyes. “Mhmm, get out.”

Bucky chuckled and slipped his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side. “Don’t worry about her; she’s in good hands.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “Yeah, my own.”

He smirked.

Nicole chuckled. “Come on guys, let’s head back.” She guided her children out of your apartment and began to make her way back down the hall.

Andrei followed them, glancing over his shoulder once more at Bucky. For a split second, his eyes turned doubtful, and he looked like he wanted to say something. After a moment, he decided against it and walked out.

Once the door was closed, Bucky let out a sigh of relief. “Wow, you have some strange friends.”

“You were first my friend,” you pointed out. “So be glad that I make friends with bizarre people or you might not have a girlfriend right now.” You chuckled at his expression and glanced down at all the empty boxing and filling on your floor from the security system’s box. “Now where were we?”

“Step two,” he answered with a laugh as as he picked up the drill and got back to work.


	8. Chapter 8

You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this terrified in all of your life. Diving around your apartment frantically, you were trying so hard not to lose your cool, but given the current situation, that was next to impossible.

You were about to go on a date, your first date with Bucky after having been “together” for a week, and to say you were nervous was a total understatement. You hadn’t been on a single date since you arrived in Bucharest three years and some months ago so you were a little rusty.

Bucky wouldn’t tell you where you were going, he just said to dress nice, but that smirk on his face meant nothing but trouble.

Nicole had spent the entire afternoon at your place helping you decide what to wear and what to do with your hair and, after countless hours of plotting, planning, and prepping, you were finally dressed in a simple yet stunning pale cream dress and your hair was curled and set up in a messy updo. Nicole (bless her heart) had done your makeup and had highlighted all of your best features while downplaying your worst. 

After she left with only a half hour to go until the date was supposed to commence, you began your panicked pacing. Constantly darting around throwing anything you thought you might’ve needed into your small purse was surprisingly good for your nerves, and you found that after packing, unpacking, and _re_ packing your purse, you had managed to calm some of the nerves.

Some of the more stubborn ones, however, stayed tightly fixated in a knot at the base of your stomach.

You glanced up at your clock and your breath hitched. _Five minutes to go._ God, why were you so nervous? You’d never gotten this anxious in his presence before, not even when he had been practically living at your place for the past week. So why now? Was it because this was your first official date? It had to be. But come on, you chided yourself, this was Bucky you were talking about.

Bucky with his kind blue eyes that made your stomach run a marathon and his longish hair that you were tempted to trim in the middle of the night (he’d given you a key so this was totally feasible) in order to keep it nice and orderly. Bucky with his strong arms that made you feel warm and fuzzy when he hugged you (especially his newly discovered metal one that you would discreetly stick magnets to) and his scruffy stubble that’s would sometimes make an appearance if he forgot to shave. Bucky with his way of making you feel special and loved even if you had only been officially seeing each other for seven days.

The subtle knock at your door startled you from your thoughts. You quickly threw your phone and charger into your bag along with your wallet and slipped on the two-inch heels you had bought on discount just for the occasion. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and opened the door.

Bucky was dressed in a dark blue suit with a black undershirt whose top two buttons were undone. His hands, one of which was stuffed deep into his pocket while the other held a bouquet of white flowers, were covered in a pair of tight black gloves. His hair was combed back and gelled so it would stay in place with only a few strays falling against the sides of his face. He looked about as nervous as you felt, shifting his weight on his feet anxiously. His eyes darted up as you opened the door, his posture immediately relaxing when he saw you. “(y/n)…” he breathed out.

You grinned. “Hey.” You glanced at the flowers and laughed softly. “Are those for me?” you asked with a teasing smile.

“Oh, these?” He smirked. “Nah, they’re for Nicole. I thought she’d appreciate them.” He held them out to you. “I thought it was appropriate to bring my lovely date flowers.”

“That it was,” you agreed as you took them. “They’re beautiful. Let me go get a vase.” You set your purse down in the entryway and dashed to your sink. “So where are we going?” you asked as you pulled a glass vase from the space beneath the sink.

“To dinner,” he answered simply. “I figured it was a safe bet to go with a classic date idea rather than try something bizarre like rain dancing.”

You chuckled and filled the vase with water. You stuck the flowers into the liquid and turned to face him. “I don’t know. Rain dancing sounds like fun.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the second date,” he replied as he leaned against the door frame.

You giggled as you picked your bag back up and turned the lights off. “Haven’t even begun date one and already thinking about date two?” You shut the door behind you and fitted your key into the lock, turning it so the lock clicked softly.

“Well duh, I’m counting on the fact that this one will _blow_ your mind.” He took your hand with the one you knew to be flesh as he guided you down the stairs.

You smiled softly as you felt the warmth radiating from his hand. You knew it must be baking in the glove, especially since it was really warm in your building and he was in long sleeves and pants. But as you felt the pressure from his fingers, it dawned on you that he had never actually touched you with his left hand if he could afford it. Even before that night a week ago, he never let you close to it, always sitting with you on his right or making an excuse as to why he didn’t want you on his left side. You had always assumed it was some bizarre case of OCD, but now that you knew about his prosthetic, you had to wonder if he was doing it on purpose to keep you away from his metal appendage. The thought made you a little sad that he felt the need to hide it away from you.

“Blow my mind, huh? We’ll see about that. 

You both finally got to the ground floor of the building and he held the front door open for you to exit through. 

The busy sounds of Bucharest met your ears as you exited. You paused outside the doors and took a deep breath. “So where’s your bike?” you asked turning to look at Bucky over your shoulder.

He shook his head. “No bike today. Where we’re going requires a bit more class than a bike.” He walked over to a yellow taxi cab perched against the curb and opened the door to the backseat. “After you, doll.”

“Such a gentleman.” You grinned and slid in to the far side of the seat.

Bucky slid into the seat next to you and said something in Romanian to the driver.

The driver nodded and shifted the car into drive.

You were really going to have to freshen up on the language here soon. Hmmm, maybe Bucky could teach you. Now there was an idea.

You smiled at him. “Where’s dinner at?”

“Can’t tell, but I think you’ll like it.” He grinned slyly. “It’ll be a little taste of home.”

Well that wasn’t vague, but you supposed you could sit tight for the surprise. For fifteen minutes, you both sat in a comfortable and eager silence. You were excited for this date and wanting for it to start as soon as possible.

Finally the cab pulled up to a well lit restaurant. The sign on the front of the building read ATLAS in large, white, lit-up letters.

Your stomach dropped. ATLAS was one of the best American restaurants in the city. It’s highly expensive steaks and burgers were legendary and you could only get a seat through a reservation at least a week or two in advance. Only the best of the best ate here, and yet there you were.

You turned to Bucky with wide eyes. “No freaking way.”

He grinned. “My treat.” He opened his door as the car slowed to a stop and slid out. He quickly walked around to your side and opened the door for you. “I wanted to take you to the best the city had to offer, since you’ve done so much for me.” He held out his hand.

You took it and climbed out with his help. “I really haven’t done that much, Buck,” you said with a shy smile.

“You’ve done more than you know. Now come on, let me treat you to something special.” He tugged gently on your hand as he led you up the small steps to the entryway.

A soft piano tune was playing on the overhead speakers and was joined by the hushed chatter of the patrons. Like always, the restaurant was incredibly full, as was the wait area. The whole place screamed “formal” and “prestigious” with it’s stark white walls and fancy tables and uniforms. You had to admit that you felt a bit out of place, but it was a little refreshing.

Bucky walked up to the podium where the host was making notes in his reservations book.

The host looked up with a smile. “Good evening, sir. How might I assist you?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “We have a reservation.”

The man nodded and opened his book. “Name?”

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, shooting you a smile.

The man trailed his finger over the lines, his smile melting into a small frown. “I’m sorry, sir, but ‘Buchanan’ is not on my list.”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it isn’t. Is there another name the reservation might be listed under?”

“Try Barnes or (l/n),” Bucky suggested. He turned to you as the host began to search again. “Sorry about this, doll. I’ll get this all figured out.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but neither ‘Barnes’ nor ‘(l/n)’ are on the list.” He looked up apologetically. “You are more than welcome to have a seat in our lovely waiting area and I will call you up if anything happens to open up, but I am afraid that is the best we can do for you.”

Bucky frowned. “Are you sure it’s not on there? I called to confirm last night and they said they had my table.” He was growing a little tense now. You could tell it in his body language and the way his shoulders straightened up.

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry sir, but you are not listed here.”

He looked ready to protest, but you reached out and rested your hand on his upper arm. “That’s alright. We can wait. Come on, Bucky, let’s go get our seats.” you led him off towards the waiting area. You snagged two seats right next to each other and sat. “This won’t be so bad. We’ll just wait until they have a table for us,” you said.

Bucky’s jaw set into a dissatisfied expression. “I had a reservation,” he insisted. He shook his head. “I’m sorry about this, (y/n).” He shook his head knocking a few hairs loose into his face.

You smiled softly and rested your hand on his back. Rubbing small circles onto his clothed skin, you leaned forward to look at him. “I don’t mind. I’m still out with you, right? The date is just a little… _different_ than we first expected. Nevertheless, I’m still planning on having fun.” You smiled at him reassuringly. “It’ll be okay.”

His figure relaxed under your touch and he took a deep breath. “You’re right,“ he finally said after a while. He sat up straight against the chair and turned to you with a smile. “You’re right,” he repeated as he smiled. “Let’s not let this little hiccup derail the night. Besides, how long could this wait possibly be?”

An hour was the answer. It took an hour for the restaurant to finally find your reservation and by the time they did, your stomach was growling so much you were sure Bucky could hear it over the music and talking around you. The host had apologized profusely for losing your reservation and no matter how many times you both assured him it was okay, he wouldn’t stop. The apologizing finally ceased when you got to your table and were seated for a good three minutes.

When he finally left you shook your head laughing. “Well then. I am famished.” You picked up your menu. “I’ve never been here so I don’t know what’s good.”

He chuckled. “I hear they have really good steaks. I’m feeling a little homesick and think I’m going to get the New York steak.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re from New York too?” you asked excitedly. At his nod you proceeded to ask him which part.

“Brooklyn, born and raised,” he answered with a smile. 

You beamed at him. “I love it there. It’s such a great city. My favorite place there is Mr. Blue’s Frozen Treats.”

Now that brought back memories. Mr. Blue’s was an older ice cream parlor that had been there since the thirties. The original owner, Thomas Blue had made his own recipes for the ice creams and to say that they were the best in the state would be an understatement. His recipes got passed down to his son, Ryan when he passed away, and from there Ryan, the new Mr. Blue, developed more and more flavors, turning that place into one of the top spots of the city.

Bucky’s eyes lit up. “That’s still there?” he asked gleefully. “I thought for sure it would’ve closed down by now!”

You shook your head. “Nope! Thomas’s son took it over and it’s better than ever!”

He took on the persona of an excited child. “I can’t believe it! That’s amazing!” He sat back in his chair, the biggest smile on his face. “God I haven’t been there in years. I miss that place.”

You smiled. “Well we’ll be sure to go back to visit soon then.”

He nodded and looked back down at his menu. “Go ahead and pick out anything you want. Dinner is on me tonight.”

Your eyes flickered down to the menu and you choked on air. “Holy crap!” you exclaimed quietly.

The prices were utterly ridiculous. Ninety-nine leu for one steak. That was like twenty five American dollars and way more than you ever wanted to pay for a steak, even if it was the best in the entire city.

Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “It’s okay. Don’t look at the prices,” he said as if he was reading your mind. “I’ve got it covered.”

You looked up at him incredulously. “A meal here costs an arm and a leg! How did you manage to save for this?”

He smirked. “Well I already paid an arm, all I had to do was sell off my leg and we were set,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He tilted his head. “I took up some odd jobs and hardly spent any money from the past two paychecks. You’d be surprised at how well manual labor pays.”

“Oh, right.” You snickered. “I forgot you had a job with how much time you’re spending with me lately.”

“I’m not there every hour, doll,” he said as the waiter approached the table.

The waiter smiled down at you both. “Good evening. Can I get you started out with some drinks for the night?”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll have a whiskey sour and a water, please.”

The waiter wrote down the order and turned to you.

You quickly glanced at the drink menu. What sounded good? Your eyes quickly scanned the drink selections. Hmm, that cherry drink sounded good. “I’ll take a Shirley Temple, please.”

The waiter nodded. “Alright. Are you ready to order as well or would you like some more time?”

You looked over into Bucky’s eyes with a small nod. “I think we’re ready to go.” You opened the menu, and after wincing at the price once more ordered, “I’ll have the New York steak, medium well, please.”

He scribbled it down on his notepad and looked to Bucky. “And you, sir?”

“I will also take the New York, well done, please.”

The waiter nodded once more. “Alright. We’ll have those right out for you.” And with that, he scurried off towards the kitchen.

You looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised. “Whiskey sour?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m driving. We took a cab, remember?” He grinned. “And you with the cherry drink? Feeling a little sweet tonight?”

“Oh you know it!” you laughed. “Ever since you brought me that damned pie I’ve been craving cherry.”

“It’s not my fault you ate more than half,” he pointed out.

“No but it is your fault that I had it in the first place.”

At that moment, the waiter scurried back out towards your table carrying a tray with a yellow drink and a red drink perched on top. He slowed to a stop and lifted the whiskey sour from his tray. “Here you are. One whiskey sour and one— Oh!” As he was bringing his arm back to grab your drink, his elbow connected with its side, sending the glass tumbling and the contents all over your chest and lap.

You gasped in shock as the cool liquid soaked your dress, staining the cream red and chilling you to the bone. You stood up, pushing your chair back with your legs as you looked down to see the damage. 

Much to your disappointment, your dress was _jacked_.

“(y/n)!” Bucky said as he too stood up.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled as you quickly grabbed your napkin and began to blot the dress. That seemed to do absolutely nothing. “Oh shit, this isn’t coming out.” 

The waiter stood there stunned. “Oh, Madame! My apologies! I-I didn’t mean to—”

You shook your head. “I-It’s alright.” You looked up and smiled weakly before turning to face Bucky. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” You didn’t wait for his response as you dashed through the restaurant following the signs towards the bathrooms. The people around you glanced up as you ran past, the men giving you strange looks while the women gave ones of pity. You must’ve been a sight for sore eyes.

As soon as you got in and stood in front of the mirror, you saw that you looked way worse than you had thought. The red drink had splashed all over your chest and splattered droplets all over your upper arms and lap. You looked around and spotted the small basket of hand towels they provided to customers and dampened one of them. You felt it was smart to clean off your skin before it got sticky since the dress wasn’t salvageable. Within moments, the red was cleared from your arms and you felt a little better, albeit a bit guilty that their towel had gotten stained a bit. You tossed the towel into the hamper and grabbed another, beginning to soak up whatever much of the red you could from your dress. Fifteen minutes and ten hand towels later, the bright red had faded to a rather vibrant pink. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, and with a sigh, you deemed yourself presentable enough. You straightened your shoulders and left the bathroom.

When you got back to the table you saw Bucky sitting there anxiously tapping his foot and spinning a fork on the table. Your spot had been cleansed of the red mess and a cherry red drink was waiting on the table for you.

Bucky looked up as you approached, his eyes darkening slightly. “(y/n) I…”

You shook your head to stop him. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. It’s just a dress,” you said reassuringly.

He looked you over and began to shrug off his jacket, leaving him in his long-sleeved black button up shirt that was a smidge too tight on him (but still incredibly hot). He stood up and carried it over to you. “Here,” he said as he set it over your shoulders.

“No!” you protested gently. “I don’t want it to get stained.” You tried to take it off, but his strong hands held it on your shoulders.

He smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just a suit,” he said mimicking your previous statement. “And you must be freezing in that wet dress.”

You had to admit you were a little chilly. So without another word, you slid your arms into the sleeves and snuggled into the jacket. His comforting scent of coffee, old books, and gunpowder filled your nose and instantly relaxed you. A content smile crossed your lips. “You’re right. Now, let’s get back on with our date. The night isn’t over yet. What more can go wrong?”

The answer: a lot. You had ordered your steak medium well, but when you had finally gotten it, the meat was so rare you were surprised it wasn’t mooing. Hiding an exasperated groan because you were just so damn hungry, you sent it back to be cooked more because there was no way you could eat it that raw. For one of the city’s finest restaurants, you were a little disappointed in ATLAS’s quality control.

Bucky refused to eat until your steak came back to be polite, but you could tell he wanted nothing more than to gorge himself on the steak in front of him. After all, he looked as hungry as you felt, if not more so. It wasn’t until you pointed out that by the time your steak came out, his would be cold that he began to begrudgingly eat.

A half hour of waiting later and Bucky being long done with his steak, you finally flagged a waiter to see what had happened to your food, only for your original waiter to come out apologizing profusely because the chefs had discarded the steak thinking it was leftovers rather than sticking it back on the grill.

Bucky looked like he was about to blow a blood vessel when he heard the news, obviously upset by the way the entire night had gone.

You, however, were just tired. You’d tried to keep a positive attitude so as to have a good first date, but after losing the reservation, the obscenely long wait, ruining your dress, and now the absence of your food, you were tired, starving, and just wanting to go home. You dismissed their attempts to offer you a brand new steak and food voucher and simply asked for the check.

As the waiter ran off to fulfill your wishes, Bucky looked at you guiltily. “I’m so, so sorry for how tonight turned out, doll. I was hoping to blow you away with the amazing restaurant but I never knew the night was going to end up like this.” He glanced at his watch. “And now it’s almost eleven o’clock at night and you must be so hungry and the whole night’s just been a disaster.” He hung his head in defeat.

“I’m not really that hungry,” you said ignoring your stomach which was protesting _loudly._ “And even though we had some speed bumps, I still had a good time cause I got to go out with you.”

He looked up, his eyes hopeful. “You mean it?”

“Every word,” you assured.

The waiter approached the table with the check, gingery holding it out to Bucky. 

Bucky glanced over the total briefly and pulled out his wallet.

You tried to peer over the check book to see how much you needed to compensate him with by slipping the money under his door or into his fridge, but he kept the numbers well hidden from your line of sight.

He smirked as he dug some bills from his wallet and slipped it into the book. He handed it back to the waiter, thanked him, and then walked around the table to pull your chair out for you. 

You stood and laced your fingers with his. “Let’s head home.”

He nodded and began to lead you out to the front of the restaurant. “I so hope the taxi is here already.”

You bobbed your head in agreement as the cold night air connected with your skin and still damp dress. You shivered slightly, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

He returned the squeeze as a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. He hurried you over to the cab and opened the door for you.

You slid into the cab, immediately being met with air colder than the air outside. “Oh my…” you mumbled as you quickly wrapped your arms around your torso.

Bucky slid in next to you and, noticing your shivering form, leaned forward and asked the cabbie something in Romanian.

The man barked his answer before putting the car into drive and driving down in the direction of your apartment building.

Bucky looked at you apologetically. “He said his heat’s broken,” he said with a wince. 

You nodded your acknowledgement as you curled up as much as your dress and the cramped cab would let you. You glanced sideways at Bucky to read his expression.

He looked tense as hell. All things considered, you figured it was allowed.

You reached over and set your hand on top of his, feeling the cool metal through his glove. You rubbed small circles on the back of the prosthetic not knowing if he could actually feel your touch. You’d have to ask him about that when you got back to your apartment.

The cab finally slowed to a stop outside your building and you both climbed out. As you placed your foot on the cement outside the car and applied pressure to it, a sickening crack rang out in the quiet atmosphere and the heel of your foot connected roughly with the ground. You cussed under your breath and looked down. Sure enough, you had just broken the heel of your shoe.

“You have got to be shitting me,” you growled as you reached down to remove your shoe.

Bucky looked down. “What happened?” he asked, a small hint of panic evident in his voice.

You lifted the shoe up by the counter to display the heel that was barely hanging on by a small strand of fabric. A dry smile covered your face. “I. Am. Going. To. Cry,” you said, your voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. You slipped off the other shoe and hooked both shoes on your fingers. Gingerly, you began walking barefoot across the rough cement to your building.

He dashed forward to get the door for you. “(y/n), wait.”

You stopped at the base of the stairs and turned to face him. “Yeah?”

He paused before turning his back to you. “Climb on.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Climb on,” he repeated. He looked over his shoulder at you with a grin. “I’m going to carry you up. You’ve been through enough tonight so consider it my treat.”

You were 90% sure the alcohol had gotten to his head and you laughed. “Bucky, you aren’t carrying me up the stairs.”

“Yes I am,” he insisted. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I could crush you,” you protested.

“You won’t. Come on, give it a try.”

You looked up at the flights of stairs leading to the top floor and groaned. “Fine.” You walked over to him and cautiously hopped onto his back.

He hoisted you up easily, shifting you so you were straddling his waist from behind while his arms wrapped around your legs to hold you securely. “Ready?” he asked.

You nodded and looped your arms around his neck for extra stability.

“Hold on.” He held you close and began climbing the stairs.

You bounced gently against his back with every step, laughing at the awkwardness of the situation. “Bucky this is ridiculous!”

His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “It’s making you laugh, right? Then my job is done.” He reached the top of the stairs in record time and set you down at the top of the stairs on your floor. He turned to face you. “I want to make this night up to you,” he said as he took your hand.

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him questioningly.

“Go on and take a shower so that way you don’t get sticky. I’m going to go change and I’ll be right over.” Without waiting for your response, he opened his door and slipped into his apartment.

You shrugged and entered your own apartment. You flicked on the light and tossed your bag down in the entryway. After shutting the door behind you, you snagged a pair of blue fuzzy pajamas from the dresser and retreated to the bathroom. You turned on the faucet in your shower-tub combo and left it to warm itself. Taking a deep breath, you peeled off the ruined dress and dumped it in the sink. You could deal with that tomorrow because at that moment, all you wanted was a hot shower.

You changed the flow from the faucet to the shower head and climbed in. The warm water met your body, instantly relaxing you. You sighed in content and began to clean off the sticky drink from your body and wash your hair. You weren’t sure how long you were in there, but it was long enough for Bucky to make his way into the apartment and probably set up camp on your couch. Finally, as the warm water began to run out, you turned off the shower and climbed out. You grabbed your favorite fuzzy towel and patted your body and hair dry, or as dry as possible, before climbing into your pajamas. The softness of the fabric felt amazing against your newly cleaned skin and you let your head droop back in satisfaction. You snagged a hair tie from your counter and threw your hair up in a messy bun before walking out of the bathroom.

Like you had predicted, Bucky had set up camp. Your couch was covered in blankets and pillows from both your apartment and his and your coffee table was set up with a large pizza that was still steaming and a variety of sodas. Your TV was on with the Netflix selection page opened up and ready to broadcast what ever you decided on watching. Bucky was reclined on your couch in a pair of his flannel pajama pants and a white tank top, his metal arm fully out in the open as he rested his cheek in its palm.

He looked up as you exited and grinned. “You must be starving, so I took the liberty of ordering you a pizza from your favorite place. I hope I got the right kind.”

You looked down at the steaming disc of goodness, a smile tugging at your lips. “You did. It’s perfect.”

His smile widened. “Then come on over here,” he said patting the spot on your couch to his right. “This pizza won’t eat itself.”

You complied, taking the spot next to him as you reached greedily for one of the gooey slices. You lifted the pizza to your lips and took a bite, the warmth filling you from the inside out. “I don’t think pizza has ever tasted this good before,” you said quickly shoving more of the slice into your mouth.

He smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’m glad you like it, doll. I hope this helps make up for the pathetic first date we just had.”

You nodded eagerly, finishing off the slice and picking up another. “Date compensated.” 

“Good.” He picked up the TV remote in his left hand. “Now, what should we watch?”

You hummed. “Cringey rom-com?” you suggested. “I know one that will make you really wince.” You reached over for the remote.

He relinquished control of the remote, letting you go wild.

You quickly queued the search bar, typing in “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.” You grinned and selected it. “This is one of my favorites.” You finished off another slice of pizza and snuggled into his side.

He squeezed you tighter. “We’ll see how it goes.”

The movie progressed along and the pizza slowly disappeared slice by slice until there was one left. With your full stomach, the fatigue from the day and from the current time (well after midnight), you felt your eyes begin to droop. You rested your head on Bucky’s chest and reached over to grasp his metal hand.

He jumped slightly at the contact and looked down as you played with the fingers. “What are you doing, doll?” he asked as he let you move them to your will.

You hummed. “Can you feel this?” you asked as you pressed your palm against his. You glanced up at him, your eyes big and sleepy.

“Sorta. I can register that your touch is there, but it’s more like data is being sent to my brain rather than actually feeling it. So yes, I can feel you there, but the sensation isn’t natural.” He rested his hand over your rib cage, tracing small circles over your clothed skin. “It’s not like how I can feel you with this hand.”

You smiled softly. “But you can still feel me?”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating slightly. “Yes. I can feel you.”

You closed your eyes. “Good…” You lay in his embrace for what felt like an eternity before finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Bucky smiled softly as he felt your breathing even out and your heartbeat steady itself. He shifted his position so he was fully reclined on the couch and you were practically laying on top of him. Your head turned to the side so your cheek was resting on his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. He wrapped one arm around your waist and used the other to cradle your head, gently brushing hairs away from your face. He stared lovingly at your sleeping face, wondering to himself how he had ended up here with this beautiful woman sleeping soundly on him. 

What did he ever do to deserve this? He wasn’t sure, but he was thanking whatever higher being there was for this chance to lead a normal life with you who seemed to accept every part of him unconditionally, even with his arm and issues. 

He sighed with bliss as he closed his eyes and slowly drifted off into the first sleep he didn’t have a nightmare in what felt like decades.


	9. Chapter 9

You were regretting life at that moment.

It was December 31 at around 11:30 at night, and you were absolutely exhausted. Some part of you had thought it’d be a good idea to invite Nicole and her family over to celebrate the new year. 

You wanted to punch that part of you in the face.

“Luca! Get off the table!” you shrieked as you shot forward to catch the little boy who was wobbling dangerously close to the edge of your table. 

The boy laughed as he continued to walk around, balancing himself as he went. The sugar high was obviously kicking in.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and lifted him up. “Nicoooolllleeee!” you whined. “Get your kid!” You lifted the squirming child off the table and held him out towards your friend.

She was already holding a squirming Alexi as she turned towards you apologetically. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I didn’t realize how much candy they had gotten into.” She handed Alexi off to Andrei as she walked over to take Luca from you. She put on her “mother face” as you liked to call it and glared at Luca. “You can’t get on our furniture like that so what makes you think you can get on Auntie (y/n)’s?”

Luca pouted. “But Mooom!”

She gave him a silencing stare as she set him down. “He’s just happy to be awake. It’s way past his usual bedtime so this is very exciting for him.”

Bucky chuckled from his spot on the couch. Tearing his gaze away from your TV that was displaying an American news channel that was broadcasting Times Square and it’s new year’s celebration to match your time. “Just let him run around, he’ll tire himself out.”

You turned to glare at him. “Run around? Not a chance. The last time he was on a sugar rush this bad, I had to buy a new dining set.”

He chuckled and the sound brought a smile to your face.

Much to your delight, you’d seen change in him over the last three months since you had started dating. For one thing, he was visibly more comfortable around you, especially when it came to his arm. He still refused to allow anybody to see it, even Nicole and Andrei who had gotten him to smile more around them. But, when it was just the two of you, he’d be comfortable with taking off his gloves and jacket and letting the metal gleam and occasionally blind you when the sun shone just right on it. Granted, it had take a lot of assuring on your part that you didn’t hate it and loved it just as much as you loved the rest of him, but it had worked. He was still a little wary of letting you near it or touch it, but it was a start. With his walls around his arm coming down, so did the walls creating his stoic and closed off demeanor. Beneath all the gruff and icy looks, was a really kind, energetic, and smart individual.

It shocked you just how smart and good with numbers he was. You had been having a difficult time with some equations needed to finish a line of code for the security system you had been working on for Cyrotechnics and he swooped in, solving it in ten seconds flat with a square inch of scrap paper for his work. When you interrogated him about his sudden math genius, he answered simply saying he’d needed to be good at it for his last profession. What this profession was, he didn’t say and you didn’t feel like prying.

But, needless to say, you did start to go to him when you had some difficulties after he revealed his smarts to you.

He was quite funny too, always bringing a round of sarcastic humor with him whenever he visited, especially arm related humor. He was _armed_ with humor, as he phrased it. So far he was trying to convince you that his puns were _all-right_ and dandy, and although the puns were getting ridiculous, you didn’t comment on it because it amused you to see this new side of Bucky. He’d even started to make jokes around Nicole and Andrei.

Bucky grinned up at you. “Don’t worry doll. If there are any broken dining sets I can help you fix it or move a new one in. It is sort of my job.”

You rolled your eyes as you plopped down onto the couch next to him. You sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, the chill from the metal seeping through his clothing and cooling your head. “I don’t care if it’s your job, I don’t want to have to buy a new one.”

He snaked his arm around your waist. “Then I’ll buy you one.”

Andrei, who was sitting on Bucky’s other side, mocked a gag. “You two are so sweet you’re going to give me a cavity,” he complained. He turned to look at Nicole. “Why did we agree to this again?”

“Because it’s new year’s and (y/n) invited us.” She grinned and looked at the clock. “Just a few more minutes until it’s the brand new year. Is there anything you guys are looking forward to?”

Andrei beamed. “I’m looking forward to another year with my family. And maybe, getting a new addition.” He smirked at Nicole.

Your head snapped in the direction of your best friend. “A new _what_?”

Nicole shot a glare at her husband. “He’s been teasing me about having another baby, and I told him that once he starts helping around with the chores and stuff, then we can _think_ about it.”

Andrei chuckled. “I think it’d be a good idea. It’d give us a reason to get a bigger place, maybe move into a house.” He smiled wistfully. “We could do it, you know. We’ve saved up enough for a down payment, and Jack was talking about giving me that promotion and a raise.”

You looked between them, a soft smile covering your lips. “I know an excellent mover if you guys decide to.” You jerked your head subtly in Bucky’s direction.

“And I won’t even charge you,” he added with a grin. 

Nicole chuckled. “We appreciate that, James.”

You breathed a chuckle as you stood up. “I’m going to get more chips,” you announced, not like it really mattered what you were going to do. The apartment was small enough that no matter where you went, they could practically see you. You walked away from the couch towards the kitchen where Liza was sitting, binging on the vegetable tray you had bought. You smiled at her as you made your way to the pantry. “Hey kiddo,” you greeted. “You having a good time?”

She nodded, looking up from the TV screen in the other room. “It’s nice to stay up all night.” She grinned at you.

You nodded your agreement. “That, and it’s good to have you all over again. It’s been too long.”

She bobbed her head, popping a carrot into her mouth.

Of all of Nicole’s kids, Liza was probably the one you felt the most attached to. She had been born before you got to Romania, but she was the one who took an instant liking to you. Being ten at the time, she was starting to venture out of her family’s social circle and making her own friends. She had seen you struggling up the stairs holding a box that blocked your sight and immediately moved to help guide you up the remaining flights. From there, she helped you bring up the smaller things you had despite you warning her that she shouldn’t be so open and inviting to strangers. She had waved you off, simply stating that you seemed harmless enough, especially since you couldn’t carry up your own furniture. She was actually the one who introduced you to Nicole. She had pulled you by the hand after you had moved the last box in, _insisting_ that her mother had to meet her new friend.

You smiled fondly at the memory and pulled open the pantry door.

“Hey Auntie,” she called out from her perch.

You raised your head as you dug into the food for the bag of chips. “Hmm?”

“Are you going to marry James and make him our uncle?”

You nearly choked on your spit as you pulled your head out of the pantry. “Am I going to _what_?”

She shrugged. “You know. Is he going to be our uncle?”

Your eyes flickered towards Bucky still sitting on the couch. “I-I don’t know, sweetie. What makes you ask that?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know. You guys always seem to be spending time with each other, and the way he looks at you is the way Dad looks at Mom so I just thought you guys’ll end up getting married and he’ll be our new uncle.”

No flipping way. It was no secret that Andrei and Nicole were _in love_ in love. High school sweethearts, they’d been with each other for decades, and had never once questioned their loyalty to each other. Theirs was the kind of love you read about in the books: the kind that’s unconditional and everlasting, written in the heavens and sealed with stone. You had always envied them and craved the kind of love they had because they were the ones that made you believe in soulmates and that everyone had the one for them.

If Bucky was looking at you the way Andrei looked at Nicole, and it was so obvious that a thirteen-year-old could see it, just what was it he felt about you? You turned your head to look at Bucky, your eyes examining all of him anxiously as you tried to decipher what the looks could mean.

“Oh! It’s starting!” Liza shrieked as she scrambled from her spot in the kitchen to get a good spot at the TV.

You tore your gaze from Bucky’s eyes to see what the commotion was, and, sure enough, the ball had begun its decent ten seconds to midnight.

10…

Some time in all the chaos of trying to get a good spot , Bucky snuck his way over to your side, his hand settling down on your waist and turning you to face him.

9…

You looked up at him, your brows furrowed in confusion but enjoying how close his body was to yours.

8…

You could feel his warmth radiating off his body in waves, and it was nice. 

7…

You could feel his eyes boring into your skull, and you lifted your gaze to meet his. His eyes were so intense, more so than you had ever seen them.

6…

“Bucky?” you asked in a whisper, your head tilting to the side and your lips parting slightly.

5…

He took another small step closer, his scent enveloping you and making your head spin with its strength. You were reminded as to why you had been tempted to steal his jackets over the past few months.

4…

He glanced down at your lips, his eyes begging for permission.

3…

You nodded your head slowly, silently.

2…

He lifted his hand up, resting it at the junction where your neck met your jawline. His large hand caressed your face lovingly.

1…

Just as the ball finished its drop, Bucky closed the distance between you, covering your lips with his own in a loving and cherishing kiss. It was full of passion and heartache as he pulled you closer, needing you with him, right there and then as the new year began.

You responded fully, embracing him through the kiss. Your arms subconsciously wrapped around his torso, pulling him in so his chest touched yours, as your eyes fluttered shut.

The arm around your waist tightened ever so slightly and the hand on your neck pulled you in, deepening the kiss as his teeth nipped cautiously at your bottom lip.

You parted your lips slightly, half needing to take a breath, half wanting to give him permission to do what he wanted.

He took advantage of your open mouth, his tongue slipping through the gap.

It felt weird, that was for damn sure, but it was so passionate you didn’t even mind. All you could focus on was the here and now, being in his arms and knowing you were loved as he kissed you so hungrily. You couldn’t even find the words to describe what you were feeling. Warmth filled your mind and fireworks went off in your abdomen, and the elation was like nothing you had known before.

You only pulled away from him when you heard a mixture of joyful and disgusted noises. You turned your head to see where they were coming from, and your face immediately flushed with embarrassment.

Nicole and Andrei were laughing with glee, giving shouts of “Finally,” and “Good for you!” while their children, especially Luca, were all gagging and mock-vomiting at the sight of your little kissing scene.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled with a laugh as you buried your face in Bucky’s chest.

His body shook with flustered laughter as he wrapped both his arms around your torso in a hug. You felt him lean down and press a gentle kiss to your hair.

Nicole laughed at your flustered appearance. “Freaking finally! Andrei, you owe me twenty leu!”

Andrei’s happy demeanor melted in place of a groan. “Shit! You guys couldn’t have waited another day?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some bills to pay his wife.

You turned to face the couple. “Excuse me?”

Nicole grinned, her chest puffed up proudly. “We’ve been betting on when James here would finally buck up the courage and kiss you. I said he’d do it on new year’s like the cheesy, cliche sap he is…”

“And I said there was no way he’d grow a pair before then,” Andrei muttered. “Dammit, James, you couldn’t have waited just a little bit longer?”

Bucky’s arms tightened, pulling you closer to him if that was even possible. “No, I couldn’t.” He smiled down at you, and leaned down once more to place a kiss on your lips.


	10. Chapter 10

“So, I know I said I would give my left arm for a cup of coffee, but I am much more awake now and would like my arm back, please.”

You snickered as you continued to read your book. “Nope. You gave it up. It’s mine now.” You lifted your gaze up, locking onto the metal appendage that rested on your coffee table.

Bucky groaned as he walked out from the kitchen to join you on the couch. The left sleeve of his long-sleeved dark purple shirt dangled limply with no arm to fill it. He sat next to you with a pout. “Come on, doll. I need it back.”

“Then you shouldn’t have traded it for coffee,” you said sticking your bookmark into your book. You snapped the cover shut and set the novel down on the coffee table next to his arm.

He took a sip of coffee from the mug he was holding. “I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it,” he pointed out glumly. “Come on, help me put this thing back on.” He set his cup down and carefully pulled his shirt off with his now free hand, exposing his torso and, inevitably, his shoulder.

No matter how many times you saw it, it still sent shivers down your spine. The area where the metal met the flesh was horribly scarred and disfigured, exposing how hard it was to integrate the material into his body. Whoever had done the procedure was either a madman or a genius to attempt it.

You picked up the arm, laughing at it’s awkwardness. “You know, eight or so months ago, I never would’ve guessed that I’d be helping my boyfriend reattach his arm to his body. I think I am the only girl to actually be able to say she’s done this.”

He laughed along with you. “Well you took it off in the first place so it’s only fair that you get to put it back on.” He rolled his shoulder and moved it over so it was closer to you. 

You hummed and lifted the arm so the edge was in line with the exposed metal. “Walk me through this again?” you requested as you set it up to be reattached.

“Put the arm close to the socket and start with attaching the inner clips,” he instructed slowly.

You did as you were told, working so that you would attach it properly. “Okay, next?”

“Open up the first panel and start hooking up the wires you had undone to get it off. Red goes with red, blue goes with blue, and so on,” he said with a chuckle as if it was obvious.

You slid your fingers under the metal and worked it off to expose the inner workings of the arm. You slipped your fingers into the machine and began to connect the wires.

He jolted slightly as every wire got reconnected, showing signs that the nerves and such were coming back online.

When you had finished, you closed the panel. You let your fingers linger over his arm and the red star integrated to it’s deltoid and looked up at him for confirmation. “Is that it?”

He shook his head. “No, there’s one more thing to do.” At your questioning gaze, he grinned and asked, “Kiss it better?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god. You’re like an overgrown child.”

“I’m your overgrown child,” he pointed out as he leaned over and pressed a small kiss against your lips.

You hummed happily and shifted your body so you were sitting in his side. “Alright. We have a couple hours before we actually have to do stuff. I’m thinking _Stranger Things_ marathon?”

He pressed his lips together as he reached over to the edge of the couch where is long sleeved shirt was sitting, patiently waiting to be put back on. He slipped it on over his head and glanced at you. “What about that show we were watching the other day? You know the one where the one guy keeps looking into the camera?”

Your eyes lit up. “Oh! _The Office_!” you snatched up the remote from the side table and turned on your small television. “Good choice, my friend.”

The TV flickered to life displaying the default news channel that always popped up when ever you turned on the TV. The newscaster was describing how the Avengers as well as the Wakandan royal family were just arriving in Vienna for the signing of the accords.

Your finger hesitated as it reached to press the button to queue Netflix as the newscaster talked about which Avengers would be joining them for the signing and which would not. You frowned as he mentioned that Steve Rogers, the infamous Captain America, would not be signing this morning. “Hmm. That’s a little bit of a shock,” you remarked with a shrug. “I thought he might sign, but I guess not.”

Bucky didn’t respond, instead he stared at the screen where Captain America’s picture was being displayed. His face was unreadable as he observed the hero’s features.

You turned to get a better look at his face. “Bucky? You alright?”

He blinked, snapping out of his brief daze. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You spaced out there for a bit.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” He looked off at the TV in thought. “Never mind. Can we watch _The Office_ now?”

You nodded and pressed the button for Netflix. The title screen popped up and you quickly signed in. First up on your “Continue Watching for (y/n)” list was the show you were looking for and you clicked on it to resume from your spot somewhere in season two.

And so the binge began.

The show itself was bland and filled with dry humor, but you think that that was one of the reasons it was appealing to the pair of you. It dictated daily life and added some humor to its mundane dealings. That and Dwight was so OCD that it made the both of you laugh and cringe at the same time.  
  
The both of you spent the next couple hours sitting there on the couch, content with doing nothing but chilling in each other’s company. It was only when time started to creep into the afternoon that you began to stir from your spot on the couch. 

You glanced at the clock and heaved a sigh. “Alright. Now we actually have to do stuff.”

Bucky whined from his spot. His arms were wrapped around your waist and his head was resting on the spot on your chest right above your heart. “But I’m comfy,” he protested.

“But we made a promise,” you retorted. “Come on. It’s not like it’s a huge deal.”

“But I don’t want to get up.’ He pouted and slowly sat up, unwinding his arms from around your body.

“Oh I know, Buck, I know. But I need your help. Now come on.” You patted his arm and hopped off the couch. “We’ve got chili to make!”

He groaned. “Why are we making them dinner again?”

“Because Nicole’s alone and pregnant and we’re good friends,” you said rolling up your sleeves.

Both of which were true. Andrei was away in Vienna for his work and he couldn’t get out of it. The Sokovia Accords were being signed that day and, despite the event being attended by nearly all the world’s most lethal superheroes, every security measure was being put in place. It’s like “security on steroids,” as phrased by Andrei when he called earlier that morning. You had figured your best friend was a little on edge as she usually was when he left for business, and the pregnancy hormones were probably not helping her case, so you volunteered yourself and Bucky to make the family dinner so you could take a little bit of stress off her shoulders.

Besides, it’s not like you were trying to have a nice, domestic experience with your boyfriend of a little more than eight months. You _totally_ didn’t have ulterior motives for volunteering your service or anything.

You pulled your apron from the oven’s handle and slipped it on over your head. As you reached behind to tie the strings around your waist, you looked over at Bucky. “You coming? I could use an extra set of hands.”

He tilted his chin up as he let his blue eyes flicker over your form. Finally, after a moment, he stood. “I may not be the best at cooking, but what kind of a gentleman would I be if I left my dame hanging?” He smiled and walked over to join you in the kitchen.

“A pretty bad one,” you answered with a teasing smile. “Now, can you dice the tomatoes while I get the meat cooking?”

He nodded and walked over to your knife block. Gently running his fingers over the handles, he gingerly picked up one of the smaller knives and retrieved your cutting board.

“Tomatoes are in the fridge!” you informed as you pulled out a pot from the cupboard under the counter. You set it down on the stove and turned on the heat. Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked at Bucky who was frowning in concentration as he prepared to cut his newly acquired vegetable. “Careful,” you warned. “Wouldn’t want to cut your finger.”

Bucky chuckled. “Trust me, doll. I have enough experience with knives to never cut myself ever again. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you,” you replied. “I care too much about you not to. Besides,” you chuckled as you filled the pot with the chopped onions and meat to begin cooking, “who knows what kind of trouble you can get yourself into when I’m not around.”

“Probably way more than the healthy amount,” he said with a shrug. His arm began to move rhythmically as he began to slice the tomato.

You bobbed your head in agreement as you turned back to the pot. The meat had browned so you started to add in the spices and beans. You stirred in the spices and beans, slowly adding in the tomato paste to the mixture. You glanced back over your shoulder after the entire can had been emptied. “How are those tomatoes coming?”

“They’re done,” Bucky answered as he carried the cutting board that held the small pile of diced tomatoes. He tilted the board towards the pot and scraped the small cubes into the chili with the flat end of his knife. He smiled his approval down at the meal. “It’s looking good, doll.”

You grinned. “Thanks, I try.” You continued to stir the mixture together for a bit. “Can you set the table for me?”

He nodded and walked over to your cabinet. The clinking of dishes rang out in the apartment as he began to set your table that seemed to be too small for the six people you had to cram at it. The multiple folding chairs you had to break out were circled around the table in more than a tight squeeze, but it wasn’t the first time your beloved dining set had to accommodate for more than the recommended capacity.

“Thank you!” you called over your shoulder! You gave the chili one more stir before lifting the wooden spoon and setting it to the side. You reached over to the silverware drawer and pulled out one of the smaller spoons. You sank it into the chili and lifted the spoonful up to your lips. You gently blew on the steaming meat and beans before tipping it into your mouth to test the taste. It wasn’t bad if you did say so yourself. Now all it needed was to sit and simmer to let the flavors blend while you waited for your guests to arrive.

As you reached over to grab the pot’s lid to cover the meal, you were halted by two arms snaking their way around your waist and a chin settling down on your shoulder. “How does it taste?” asked Bucky’s voice right next to your ear.

You giggled as his breath tickled your ear. “Grab a spoon and see for yourself.”  
  
The left arm unwrapped itself from around your waist and reached over to the silverware drawer. He pulled out a spoon and dipped it into the chili. After pulling it out, he fit it into his mouth. He hummed in content, the sound causing his chest to vibrate against your back. “This is really good. Have you ever considered becoming a chef?”

You snickered and slid the lid onto the pot. “Nope,” you said popping the _p_. “I can only make a few things right—pie and chili being two out of the five recipes I know.” You turned around in his arms so you were facing him and grinned. “Besides, I like my ‘hacker’ job and they gave me this whole week off. I don’t think that a chef’s job would’ve done the same.”

He paused to think for a moment before nodding in agreement. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

He smirked at your confidence and his arms tightened around you. “Don’t get used to it, doll. You’ll find I’m right about most things.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as the conversation lulled. Just being there in each other’s arms was good enough for the both of you.

Eventually, Bucky lifted his hand up, cradling the back of your neck and rubbing small circles along the skin with his thumb. He turned his head in towards the crook of your neck and inhaled sharply. “Thank you…” he whispered after a bit.

You pulled back a few inches to look at his face. You tilted your head to the side. “For what?”

He smiled and his hand slid from your neck to your cheek. His eyes bore into yours, and he answered, “For being you, and for being with me.” He took his bottom lip in between his teeth. “These past few years… Well, to put it simply, they haven’t been the best. I’ve done a lot of running and a lot of hiding. But with you, life feels like it can be normal again. Even before we started being together, you were always going out of your way to make me feel welcome. You baked me a pie, for goodness sake, and you didn’t even know me.” He chuckled softly.

You smiled at the memory. It had seem so long ago that you were baking him the pie and coming home to his little “thank you” note he had slid under your door when really, it was less than a year ago.

“I never thought that I would find someone like you, much less have someone like you in my life. I really don’t deserve you, (y/n), and yet here you are.” He smiled and began to rub small circles on your skin with the padding of his thumb. “I care about you and words cannot describe how grateful I am for you and everything you do. You are, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He smiled as he leaned in and slanted his slips against yours in a heartfelt kiss.

You were putty in his arms, just melting against his chest as you kissed him back. Your heart was soaring you wanted him to know how much you cared for him too. So you kissed him with everything you had, giving yourself over to the growing sensation of love that was billowing in your heart. When the both of you finally surfaced for air, he rested his forehead against yours, a dreamy smile on his face.

You opened your mouth to respond, but you were cut off by the chiming of the clock signalling the new hour. You glanced at the clock and your stomach dropped. “Oh, god! The time! They’re going to be over any moment!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with disappointment as he unwrapped his arms from around your torso. He pressed his lips together. “I’m not done with you yet,” he noted as he walked over to your dresser. “We’re going to finish this after dinner.” He opened the tiny drawer at the top of the dresser and pulled out the pair of spare gloves he had been storing at your place.

You smiled softly as you watched him pull the flexible fabric over his hands. “Deal.”

The family arrived only moments later, the three children shooting into the apartment at lightning speeds with their mother waddling in after them. Nicole wasn’t heavily pregnant yet, but she was definitely showing and feeling the weight of growing a human inside her.

She smiled at you as she hobbled in. “(y/n)! James! It’s been too long!”

You grinned at your best friend. “It has, hasn’t it. The last time I saw you, you were flat as a board. But now…”

She chuckled as she rested her hand on the swell of her skin. “Baby number four is on their way.”

“Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy yet?” Bucky asked as he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the pot of chili.

She shook her head. “We find out next week. I think Andrei is hoping for another girl to even it out, but he won’t admit that.”

You chuckled. “She’d have him wrapped around her little finger. Heck, she’d probably have me wrapped around her finger if she wanted.” You grinned at the thought and led Nicole further into your apartment. “On a side note, who’s hungry?”

The chorus of “Me!”’s that rang out from the three children currently huddled around your boyfriend and his steaming serving bowl filled with chili was a good enough answer to make you laugh. 

“Alright, alright. Everyone to the table for some of Auntie (y/n)’s chili.

Within seconds, the whole family was seated in their desired chairs, leaving two empty spots side by side with one another for you and Bucky.

Bucky sat down after setting the bowl down on the table and set his napkin into his lap. “It looks amazing,” he said as he shifted his bowl, eager to get some of the meal.

You grinned as you picked up the ladle that was sitting in the bowl and began to dish out the steaming concoction out to the the different settings. As soon as chili was placed in each of their bowls, those around you began to top their chili with sour cream and cheese according to their individual preferences. You served yourself last, making sure each of them had their fill before getting yours and settling into your seat. You plunged your spoon into your now full bowl and began to eat.

All of you ate in silence for a while, taking in the initial bites to ease your hunger.

A good five minutes into the meal, Nicole glanced up at you over her bowl. “Thank you so much again for this guys. We appreciate it so much.”

“Yeah!” chimed Luca. “Thank you Auntie (y/n) and Uncle James.”

Bucky choked on the spoonful of chili he had been tipping into his mouth.

“Bucky!” you shouted as you began to pat his back gently. “Are you okay?”

He reached forward and grabbed his napkin. He held it up to his mouth as he coughed, wiping away the spare bits of bean that flew out with every hack. He lifted his eyes to stare at Luca. “U-Uncle?”

Liza nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. You’re a part of the family now, Uncle James.”

You looked at Nicole while raising an eyebrow.

She laughed sheepishly. “Yeah… The kids have sort of adopted him in, much like they did you. And Andrei and I thought that since you were together it kind of made sense. Oh but this is a perfect lead on into something I wanted to ask you two.”

Bucky looked at her skeptically, partially doubting the whole situation.

She took a deep breath and rested her hands on her slightly swollen stomach. “Will you two be the baby’s godparents?”

Your jaw went slack. “Wh-What? Are you serious?”

She nodded, her face becoming bright. “Yeah! You weren’t around when any of the others were born, and you are probably our closest friend. I don’t know who else I would ask to do this but you two.” She smiled.

Holy crap. “Yes!” you responded with a cheer. “Absolutely! I would be honored!”

Nicole beamed at you. “Good! What about you, James? You want to be a godfather?”

Bucky next to you was sitting in a stunned silence, his eyes trained on the spot in front of him. “You want me to be your baby’s godfather?” he asked in a strained whisper.

“Yes, James,” she said, her smile softening. “I haven’t known you for very long, but I know you’re a good person. The kid’s love you, (y/n) loves you, and that was enough for Andrei and me to have you be the new baby’s godfather. So, what do you say?”

A smile split his face and he began to nod his head, slowly at first but gaining momentum with every second. “I will.”

Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had said no.” She paused for a second before scrunching her nose in distaste. “Well I suppose we could’ve asked Andrei’s brother, but between you and me I think he’s a little weird.”

Bucky suppressed a laugh. “Well you don’t have to worry about that, Nicole. I’d be happy to be your baby’s godfather.”

You glanced over at him and smiled softly. He’d come a long, long way in the past eight months, going from James the new guy next door to now being the godfather of your best friend’s soon-to-be-born baby. It was amazing just what time could do to a person.

The meal ended an hour later after everyone had finished eating and telling stories about their day or catching up with each other. Finally, sometime after the sun had set, Nicole began to round up her kids to take them home.

“Thanks again so much, (y/n). We really owe you one.” She slipped on her sandals and knelt down to help Alexi put on his shoes.

“No you don’t,” you said back. “It was our treat for you guys. You’ve already helped us with so much.”

“Yes, but you’re doing so much to help us before the new baby comes it wouldn’t be fair for us not to repay you.” She hummed. “How about this. Andrei gets back sometime this week and afterwards why don’t we treat you to ice cream and a movie. We’ll leave the kids at home and have a double date?”

You glanced back at Bucky to see how he felt about it.

He paused for a second in thought before nodding. “Sounds like it could be fun. I’m in.”

You grinned. “Then it’s a date. We’ll see you next week. Take care.”

She picked her son up and grinned at you. “You too! Don’t do anything stupid before then.”

You laughed. “Who us? Pssh, we never do stupid things!’

She snickered and left, her other children trailing behind her like ducklings.

Finally alone in the apartment with no one else but you, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed as the tension seeped out. 

You turned around to face him, grinning as you did so. “So, Uncle James, how are you feeling?”

He breathed a laugh. “A little stunned, I’ll be honest. I didn’t expect them to be so welcoming.”

You chuckled as you walked towards him. “That’s the beauty of it though. They warm up to people pretty fast.”

“I’ll say.” He smiled and moved towards the table, picking up the dirty dishes as he went.

“Oh, no Bucky, I can do those.” You reached forward to take the bowls from his hands.

He shook his head. “Nonsense. You did the cooking, it’s only fair that I do the cleaning.” He grinned at you as he picked up the remaining bowls and carried them over to your sink. Turning on the faucet, he let the water warm up and grabbed the dish soap.

“Oh come on,” you whined. “I’ll feel useless. At least let me do the drying?”

He hummed as he began to scrub the first dish clean. “Okay fine.”

“Yay.” You dashed over and grabbed one of your towels. You took the bowl he passed you and began to dab it dry. When it was done, you reached up and placed it in the dish cabinet.

They two of you worked in perfect sync: cleaning, drying, putting away. You followed this routine until the dishes were finished and the stars were visible from your kitchen window. You had to admit that you wished the dishes had taken a little bit longer. Doing simple tasks with Bucky made them all the more fun.

But, alas, the dishes were done and there was nothing more to keep him standing in your apartment.

Bucky turned his head to look at you, his blue eyes soft and filled with love. “It’s been a long day and it’s late. I should go,” he said with a smile. He started to walk towards your door to leave.

You didn’t want him to go, not one bit. And so, without thinking, you called out, “Wait!”

He froze in his movements and turned to face you with a confused expression on his face.  
  
“Stay the night?” you asked in a careful whisper. You didn’t know if you were moving a bit too fast with this request, but it wasn’t like you were wanting to _sleep with him_ sleep with him. You just wanted him to stay.  
  
His expression was unreadable for a moment, and you were certain he was going to either laugh in your face or politely turn you down, but then he smiled and put his shoes back down. “Of course. Let me go get some pajamas and I’ll be right back. Okay?”

You nodded absently and he left the apartment to run next door.

Your mind shot into overdrive as you began to run around frantically. Holy crap had you really just asked him to stay the night and had he really just accepted? To be honest, you weren’t expecting this outcome and now you had to deal with the impending consequences of your request.

You dashed over to your dresser and pulled out a tight knit tank top and slid it on over your torso before roughly tugging on a pair of cotton sleep shorts. You wanted to be ready to go to sleep by the time he had gotten there so that way there was no awkward lull in the whole ordeal.

Damn were you nervous. Your mind swirled with thoughts as you ran to your bathroom to brush your teeth. _Was this too soon?_ You pulled out your toothbrush. _Were you rushing things?_ You squirted some toothpaste on the bristles. _Did he think you were_ that _kind of girl?_ You shoved the brush into your mouth and began to clean. _What was he expecting?_

Your mind refused to quiet down as you finished up in the bathroom and walked out.

Not seconds after you had exited, Bucky opened your front door and walked in.

He was dressed in a black muscle shirt, his thick arms on full display, and a pair of grey flannel pants. He was carrying a small bundle of clothes that consisted of a red long sleeved Henley, a black undershirt, jeans, and a heavy leather jacket all topped off with a black baseball cap. At your questioning expression, he smiled. “I figured that I ought to have something to change into tomorrow morning if I’ll be staying over all night.”

“Oh, right.” You chuckled and averted your eyes. “You’re free to use the top few drawers of the dresser. There’s nothing in them right now.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and lumbered over to the dresser. He deposited his clothes into one of the empty drawers and turned to you. “Go ahead and get in bed,” he said with a soft smile. “I’m just going to lock up and turn off the lights.

You nodded and scurried over to the bed. You climbed in and scooted to the far edge, hopefully leaving enough room for the large man to comfortably fit in behind you. You turned onto your side facing away from him, gripping the covers tightly.

There was the faint sound of clicks as Bucky locked the door and flicked the light off, plunging your apartment into darkness. From behind you, you could hear a soft scuffle as he walked around to find his way to your bed. Moments later, the mattress dipped under his weight and the covers were lifted off slightly. He slid under the blanket behind you and pulled it up over both your torsos. He wrapped his flesh arm around your waist while using his metal one to cradle his head. He pulled you close so your back was resting against his warm chest and like that, all your nerves melted away.

Being in his embrace did that to you: it calmed you down in ways you could never comprehend. You let out a content breath as you cuddled into him. “This is nice.”

You felt him nod into the back of your head and squeeze your midsection gently. “You’re cold,” he commented quietly.

“Or you’re just warm,” you remarked. “Seriously though, why are you so hot?”

He snickered. “Well, I’m told my rugged good looks make me ****—”

“You know what I meant!”

“You’re right, I did. But it’s fun to tease you.”

You hummed as you turned in his arms to face him. “Mhmm. You just like being a punk.” 

His smiled at you. “Maybe.” He closed his eyes and moved his arm from your waist up to your shoulder, massaging small circles onto your skin. You know what we should do tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” He opened his eyes as he rubbed your shoulder tenderly.

You grinned. “Make a plum pie. We haven’t done that in a while.”

His eyes lit up in the darkness. “I’m up for that.”

“We’ll have to go out and grab the ingredients,” you continued, planning out the next day in your head. “Hopefully Lucinda won’t charge a fortune for the plums, but everything should work out. I have a little extra money bulked up in case they cost a bit more. And that also means we can get the more expensive stuff and—”

You were cut off by his quiet laughter. “Shhh, (y/n)…” he cooed as he continued to rub your back. “We can deal with that in the morning. But for now, sleep.” His eyes fluttered shut.

Silence overtook the both of you, and it was so peacefully blissful that you were certain you’d never felt such tranquility. You were still awake even after he had finally drifted off, not wanting the moment to end. If you could you would just freeze the moment in time and keep life that way forever. A sleepy smile covered your lips as you reached out and carefully brushed a strand of his dark brown hair away from his face. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, and it made you happy to see him at ease. He always walked with such a tension in his step and it was nice to see the change. You let your fingers linger over his cheek, feeling the stubble from the beard he seemed to be trying to grow and your thumb traced small circles over his skin. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath at your touch and he smiled contently in his sleep.

You let your hand fall from his cheek and rest against the pillow in between you as you stared at his face. You allowed your eyes to flicker every which way across his features, almost as if they hoped to sear his face into your mind. It was then that you realized just how much he meant to you.

You sighed softly and snuggled deeper into his chest. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,” you whispered quietly, the silence the only response.


	11. Chapter 11

You were awoken the next morning by a large hand rubbing circles on your cheek, that hand belonging to the man you loved next to you. Your eyes fluttered open to meet Bucky’s half lidded eyes and a sleepy smile crossed your lips. “Good morning,” you mumbled as you tilted your head up into his touch.

He smiled back at you. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

You nodded. “Mhmm, much better that you were here. What about you?”

He hummed, musing over the question. “I think last night was the first night in a while that I haven’t had a nightmare in a long time. We might have to do this more often.” He leaned over and pressed a fluttering kiss to your forehead.

You giggled under his touch and nodded. “I agree. You’re a good sleeping buddy; almost like an overgrown teddy bear.”

He snickered. “Large and vicious?”

“No, large and cuddly.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his chest.

“I’d beg to differ, doll. I can be quite scary when I want to be.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can. But you won’t be scary with me. You love me too much.”

He chuckled. “You’re right, I do.” He leaned over and slanted his lips across yours in an affectionate kiss.

You sighed happily and closed your eyes, responding fully to his gesture. The kiss was over as soon as it had started, and it left you with a goofy smile. “That’s a good way to wake me up,” you said with a small laugh.

He hummed. “I’m wondering if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Maybe both,” you said. “It’s a good thing because I’m ready to start the day, but its a bad thing for you because now we have to get up.” You chuckled as you began to crawl over him to get out of the bed. You were halted in your attempts by a strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you back into a firm chest. “Bucky,” you whined.

He shook his head against your hair. “Five more minutes? You’re really warm and I don’t want to let you go yet.”

“But if you want to get a pie sometime today, you have to let me go and get up,” you responded. “Don’t you want a plum pie?”

“Yes but I want you more.” He pulled you closer to him, holding you like a teddy bear. “Maybe we shouldn’t get up today,” he mumbled quietly. “Just stay in bed and cuddle. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You smiled, “It does, but we have to get up eventually. It’s not healthy to just lie around all day.” 

He sighed. “Fine,” he moaned as he let you go.

“Thank you.” You climbed out of the bed and lumbered over to the dresser. First, you dug into the top drawer that was housing Bucky’s clothes temporarily and dug them out. “Catch!” you called as you tossed them over your shoulder towards the bed.

There was a soft thud as the fabric met his skin, and he called out from behind you, “I’m going to take over your bathroom so don’t mind me.”

“Go ahead,” you said as you pulled a purple sweater and a pair of blue jeans from your dresser. “I’ll be out here.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door was shut, you began to change your clothes. You stripped out of your pajamas and quickly slid into the sweater and jeans. The chill of the fabric was cool against your warm skin, but it was compensated for by the softness of the material. You hugged the sweater tight around your body as you began to rummage around for a hair tie. Just as you were pulling your hair back into a messy bun, Bucky emerged from your bathroom fully dressed and pulling on his gloves. 

He looked up as he exited and a small grin crossed his lips. “That looks comfy.”

“Oh, it is,” you agreed eagerly. “It’s the highest quality of fluff.” You smiled and walked over to him. “Are you ready to go?” you asked as you picked up your purse.

He lifted his baseball cap up and placed it on his head. It settled down, flattening his hair and slightly shielding his face. “Yep.”

You led him out of the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind you, before taking his hand and descending down the stairs.

Bucky took his time going down the flights of stairs, lingering behind you. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head as he stared at you.

You turned around, pausing in your walking. “What?” you asked as you noticed his gaze. “Is there something in my hair?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’m just thinking about how beautiful you are. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

You couldn’t stop the small smile from tugging at your lips. “There’s something with you today,” you said as you fell in stride with him. “You’re acting a little weird.”

“I am?” He pursed his lips. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling about today, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow as you exited the stairwell on the ground floor. “A good feeling or a bad feeling?” you asked to clarify.

He walked forward and opened the front door, holding it open for you. “An uneasy one. I keep getting this feeling that something bad is going to happen today.”

You chuckled. “Maybe I’ll burn myself on the pie pan or something,” you said with a smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bucky. Everything will end up okay.”

He didn’t seem too convinced, but he nodded along to appease you.

You smiled reassuringly. “It will. We’re making a pie. What could go wrong?”

That finally brought a small grin to his lips. “Not much, I suppose. You’re probably right. I’m just being paranoid.”

“That you are,” you agreed as the two of you joined the foot traffic leading towards the grocery store. “Relax. It’s going to be a good day. We’re going to get the stuff, make a pie, and settle in for a movie night filled with cuddles and junk food we’ll be regretting in the morning. Sound good?”

He nodded his head. “Sounds like the perfect day. I’m looking forward to it.”

You reached over and laced your fingers in his. You squeezed his hand gently and smiled up at him. “I am too.”

It didn’t take the two of you too terribly long to reach the grocery store. Traffic was agreeable and you were always hitting the crosswalks just as the green light for pedestrians to cross appeared. All-in-all, it was a very easy and painless walk and you reached the store in no time. 

The shopping, too, was pretty easy and simple. You already knew where all the ingredients were so finding them was relatively painless. It was only a matter of finding which brands you wanted to use. True to your word, you allowed yourself to splurge a little bit, picking out the best of the best to bake into the pie so as to provide the highest quality of taste. Bucky helped you to the best of his ability but ended up being a little less helpful than he would’ve liked. But to his defense, he wasn’t the most knowledgeable about what needed to go into the pie. After all, he had only made it with you a few times and you still hadn’t gotten around to making him a recipe card.

You both quickly checked out, taking your bags of ingredients to leave so you could go get the plums. You were looking forward to seeing Lucinda again; it had been too long since you had last paid a visit to her little plum stand.

The pair of you crossed the couple of blocks to get to the market easily, but you paused at the entrance to the bustling marketplace and turned to Bucky. “You wanna come in with me or do you want to wait here? I know you aren’t the best with crowds, so it’s up to you.”

He frowned and looked at you puzzled. “How did you know I’m not good in crowds? I don’t remember ever telling you that.”

Your lips formed a small “o” and you laughed nervously. “Call it women’s intuition. The first time we went shopping you were a little more than antsy when we came here, so I put two and two together and figured it was some sort of crowd anxiety.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

He grinned slightly. “Well aren’t you the observant one. I’ll be fine this time. I have you with me.”

You smiled up at him. “Alright. Then let’s go get our plums.” You took his hand and led him over to the plum cart.

Lucinda looked up as you approached and smiled. “(y/n)! It’s been a while! How have you been?” she asked with twinkling eyes.

“I’ve been good. How’s your grandson?”

She chuckled. “He’s as stubborn as ever. Still refusing to get a girlfriend. I had told him you were available, but it seems not that’s changed?”

You turned your head to look at Bucky and a satisfied smile crossed your lips. “Yeah, it has.” You reached over and gripped his hand gently. “Lucinda, this is James. James, Lucinda,” you introduced. “He’s here to learn how to scout a good plum for pies.”

Lucinda smiled and offered her hand to him over the section of goods that divided her from the customers. “Well, James, it is certainly nice to meet you, and I can guarantee I will teach you how to find the ripest plums there are.”

Bucky hesitantly grasped her frail hand and shook it. “I sure hope so, ma’am. I don’t know what I would do without (y/n)’s plum pie and she’s already warned me that she won’t always make them.”

“Damn right,” you muttered under your breath. The man had an appetite like a bear and an affinity for the pies. His endless stomach could keep you cooking for days if it wanted to.

She chuckled. “Well don’t worry, young man. I’ll teach you which are the best.” Her eyes scanned the bins and she plunged her hand into the one closest to her. “They have to have a certain firmness to them,” she said pulling one out and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Not hard enough to be a rock, but not so soft that they move immediately under pressure.” She handed it over to him. “You see?”

He took the plum in his left hand, giving it a little test squeeze. “I think so.” He stuck that plum into your open bag and reached down to get another one. Turning it over in his hands, he examined its quality. “This is a good one?” he asked passing it to you.

You rolled it between your fingers, testing its firmness. “Yep! Now get five more just like it.”

He chuckled and began fishing for more plums. Occasionally, he’d pick out a bad one that was too ripe or not ripe enough and you or Lucinda would have to tell him to put it back, but after a while, your bag was full of perfect plums that were ready to be baked into a pie.

You smiled and reached for your purse. “How much do we owe you today, Luce?”

She laughed and waved her hand. “Oh! No charge at all.” At your protests she raised her eyebrows. “My treat. After all, I do expect you to be coming around more often and bringing your boyfriend with you.” She smirked up at Bucky. “Seeing the two of you together reminds me of when I was young.” She sighed dreamily.

You chuckled. “Alright then. Thank you.”

Bucky nodded his head. “Mulțumesc,” he said with a smile.

Her lips curled up and she responded with, “Ești foarte binevenit, tinere. Vino din nou curând.”

He nodded. “Eu voi.”

As you led him away from the stand you looked up at him. “What did you guys say?” you asked curiously.

He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Nothing much. I thanked her, she told me to come by again soon, I told her I would. You didn’t miss out on much my little non-Romanian-speaking doll.”

You chuckled. “Good. I don’t want you to talk about me behind my back.”

He slowed to a stop as you came up to the street crossing. “Oh we will, just not when you’re there,” he said with a laugh. He quieted down as the sound of sirens entered your ear shot, his head perking up in alert.

The cop cars were barreling down the street, driving fast to get to their emergency’s destination. They whizzed past you and as quick as they had come, they were gone.

Bucky visibly relaxed next to you, letting out a sigh of relief. But it was short lived. As his gaze swept across the line of vendors across the street, he tensed slightly.

You frowned at his sudden unease and turn of mood and turned your head to look at him. “Bucky? You okay?”

His gaze was trained on a newsstand across the street and his jaw was set. Without a word he walked forward, crossing the street in the lull of traffic and making a beeline straight for the newsstand.

“Bucky!” you called out as you followed him, jogging to keep up. By the time you had caught up to him, he was already gripping the day’s newspaper, his hand trembling. You barely caught the headline before he folded it in half.

_“WINTER SOLDIER CĂUTAT PENTRU BOMBARDAMENTUL DIN VIENA.”_

“The Winter Soldier?” you asked under your breath.

Bucky’s eyes darted around tensely. “We have to go,” he said suddenly, gripping your hand and pulling you away from the newsstand, away from the marketplace, and away from the prying eyes of the public. His breathing was unsteady, erratic, and panicked as he walked and his eyes shot every which way at the smallest of noises.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” you asked trying to keep the nervousness you felt washing over you in waves out of your voice.

He didn’t answer you until you had reached your apartment building. “Do you remember how I told you that my past was dark? And how I hoped it would never catch up to me?” he asked as he shoved the door open and began to climb the stairs. 

You nodded your head, the conversation barely surfacing in your memory.

“Well, it caught up to me.” He rounded a corner, not looking back. “Dammit! I knew this would happen!”

“Bucky, please. Tell me what’s going on!” You begged as you followed him, totally and utterly confused. It caught up to him? 

He stopped and turned around to face you, his expression pained and torn. “(y/n)… I’m not who you think I am. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, horrible, vile things that I don’t even want to believe about myself. But they happened, and I can’t change that. I’m a bad person, (y/n), and now it’s coming back to bite me.”

You barked a laugh. “You are not a bad person, Bucky.”

“But I am,” he protested. “I’ll explain it later, all of it, but for right now we have to leave Bucharest.” He grabbed your hand and started to pull you up the remaining flights of stairs. “I’ve been planning for something like this to happen for months, as a worst case scenario. Everything we need is in my apartment: clothes, money, fake ID’s and passports,” he rambled off. “I have a safe house set up in Bulgaria, we can stay there for awhile until the search dies down but—”

“Bucky!” you said cutting him off. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why do we need to leave.”

“They’re looking for me, and they’re going to find me and you and they could hurt you because of me.” He shook his head as he continued to climb the stairs. “I’m so sorry to do this to you, doll, but there is no other way.”

Your head was spinning with questions that needed answers, but you knew you weren’t going to get them at that moment. So, you followed him, your trust and faith in him and his intentions being the only thing you needed to reassure you that this was the right thing to do.

When you reached the top floor, Bucky froze and held his arm out to stop you. 

You complied and halted, looking around to see what was going on, and your stomach dropped.

Your door was open, and you were certain you had shut and locked it behind you as you left not even hours ago.

The grocery bags you held in your hands slipped from your fingers as your body froze in shock, landing on the ground with a small thud.

“We’re going to mine,” Bucky mumbled as he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He moved stealthily, never turning his back towards your door and constantly staying in between you and it in case someone lunged out. He fit his key into the lock and silently unlocked it. He pushed the door open and froze.

You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, but then you saw him: Captain America, in his fighting attire, standing with his back turned in Bucky’s kitchen.

Bucky hesitated before turning to you, his eyes conflicted and scared. “Go into my bathroom and get down in the tub. Wait there while I deal with this, and then we’ll be out of here. Okay?”

You wanted to protest. What was he going to do? Why was Captain America here? Was he going to get hurt? But when you saw the fear and concern for your well being, you couldn’t make yourself voice your worries. Instead, you simply nodded.

He turned around and slowly crept into the apartment, going first to shield you from the intruding super soldier.

You followed him, ducking into the bathroom as soon as you passed the opening. You entered, shut and locked the door behind you and climbed into the tub. You crouched down, resting on your knees as you sank into the tub. You didn’t know what you were waiting for. Maybe you were waiting for Bucky to knock on the door and tell you it was all some misunderstanding, or maybe you were waiting to wake up in his arms, this day just having been a horrible dream.

You sat there idle, and moments passed with nothing. You were beginning to think he had left with Captain America. But then, you heard the shattering of a window and the gunshots.


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky stood still as a statue as he watched the man standing in his apartment. He felt his heart racing anxiously for a number of reasons.

Number one: the newspaper had said that there was a bombing in Vienna, and he was supposedly responsible.

Number two: because of this, that vendor had recognized him, and if that random civilian recognized him, who else knew who he was and what he had done.

Number three: what would this do to you, his precious (y/n), simply because you were associated with him? Would people come after you too? Would you get hurt?

Number four: Steve Rogers was in his kitchen and you were exposed. If Steve had found him, who else knew where he was?

He turned to face you, trying hard to mask his fear and concern. “Go into my bathroom and get down in the tub. Wait there while I deal with this, and then we’ll be out of here. Okay?” he said quietly, hoping that the super soldier before them wasn’t listening or couldn’t hear him. 

You nodded, and he began to walk in slowly, making sure he stayed between you and Steve the entire time in case the Avenger wasn’t alone. As soon as you ducked into the bathroom and locked the door, he felt a weight lift off his chest, albeit a tiny one.

He watched as Steve picked up the journal you had given him and flick through the pages, looking over the fragmented memories Bucky had been trying to piece together, when suddenly his head perked up and he turned around.

Steve eyed Bucky warily and, after a while, he asked, “Do you know me?”

Bucky simply stared at him. Of course he knew him. This man was everywhere in his memory. Steve Rogers, the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who couldn’t shy away from a fight, and his best friend. Bucky wondered if that was still true. “You’re Steve,” he finally breathed out after a while. “I read about you in a museum.”

The man in front in front of him held up his hands in a small defensive gesture. “I know you’re nervous—and you have plenty of reason to be—but you’re lying.”

He was intuitive, Bucky had to give him that. Bucky shuffled his feet. “I wasn’t in Vienna,” he stated quietly. “I don’t do that anymore.” Not since I met her.

“Well the people who think you did are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive.”

Bucky’s stomach sank. So they did know where he was. He had to focus to steady his breathing. If they were coming here, that meant you were in danger. He had to get you out, but he couldn’t find a way. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “That’s smart. Good strategy.” Maybe if he could lead them away from the apartment, they’d leave you alone long enough for you to run down the hall to Nicole’s.

Steve frowned. “This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck.”

Bucky almost barked a bitter laugh. He knew that the German special forces were almost here if they weren’t already. “It always ends in a fight.” He reached down and tore the gloves from his hands. He wouldn’t need them for what was going to happen.

Steve began to grow more desperate, he probably had a comm in his ear telling him just how close the authorities were. Judging by how anxious he was, the must have been right on top of them. “You pulled me from the river. Why?”

Bucky frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

Bucky pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to respond when the window shattered next to him. Immediately he was on red alert, years of training and programming kicking into his system. It was the window next to him that shattered, the assaulting object being what he identified to be a grenade. His heart skipped a beat as he watched it clatter to the floor. He and Steve would most likely survive the blast, but he doubted the tub would do little to protect you from the blast. He instinctively kicked it towards Steve.

Steve covered the grenade with his shield, smothering the blast under the vibranium.

A man shouted something in German outside his door, proving Bucky’s suspicions that they were waiting for him.

Bucky crouched down and scooped up his mattress, lifting it up to shield his body from the attack that was coming from the window. The bullets hit the mattress with a solid thud, and it was only when they had halted completely that he dropped it. He spun around, grabbing his table and flinging it towards his door. If he could prevent the Germans from getting in through the front and escape out of his balcony, maybe he could lead them away long enough for you to slip away.

But he had other worries than just the door because at that moment an officer swung through his window and landed in the middle of his kitchenette. He aimed his gun towards Bucky and was just about to take the fatal shot when the rug was pulled out from under him by Steve.

The officer went flying and his finger slammed down on the trigger, releasing a sharp spray of bullets into the air.

Bucky could hear your panicked shriek at the sharp and sudden noises and it only made his anxiety levels shoot through the roof. He had to take the heat away from here to anywhere. Anywhere was better than here to him.

He grabbed the cop that was coming up on him and threw him against the wall to his side. He started forward towards the balcony door but was stopped by a hand grabbing his upper arm. 

“Buck, stop!” Steve cried. “You’re gonna kill someone.”

Bucky grunted and slammed Steve down on the ground. “I’m not gonna kill anyone,” he hissed as he slammed his fist down into the floor. The boards broke under the pressure and his hand sank in and caught on the straps of the backpack he had stored. He’d been planning for something like this for months, always so sure that someone would come after him and he’d have to make his escape. That was why he had made his emergency escape bag, filled with the bare essentials, some of the journals he had already filled, and a picture he had taken with you a month or two ago. He lifted the bag out from its crevice and threw it out the broken balcony door.

He had planned to follow it when the cop he had thrown to the side got back up and began to shoot at him.

He lifted his metal arm to shield his head. He could feel the bullets being deflected by the multiple panels that made up his prosthetic, and to be honest, it hurt, but it was better than being shot. 

Steve quickly pulled Bucky back behind his shield, covering both their upper bodies.

Bucky glared at the blonde. He was leaving their legs completely exposed. If their assailants were really thinking, they would’ve shot at their legs. Bucky shoved Steve forwards, taking out the cop right in front of them. He lifted his hand up and held it in front of him, covering the barrel of the gun that was firing at him and the spray of bullets coming from it as he marched up to the man firing it. He grabbed the officer and threw him into the shelves to his left. 

There was another officer coming up for him and to immobilize him, Bucky grabbed hold of a cylinder block he had been using as a makeshift side table and threw it into the cop’s head.

His attention was drawn away by the sound of gunshots at his door. He turned his head to see the hinges of his door being shot out.

 _Fuck_ , he cursed in his head as he stomped over to the door. So much for keeping them out. He had to think fast. How could he get them away?

An idea came to his mind, but it sure as hell wasn’t a good one, and if you could see into his mind right now you would be scolding him for his recklessness and stupidity. But it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. He paused in front of the door before punching a hole through the wall with his metal fist.

It connected with the head of a cop outside his apartment, but he didn’t have time to register that because he was out in the stairwell with a cop descending through the overhead skylight and many more ascending up towards him on the stairs.

Without a second thought he bashed a couple of the cops around him with their battering ram and leaped onto the man dangling from the wire. They sank down a level and he jumped off, leaving the officer to dangle. He got to work on the soldiers around him, hitting them with enough force to take them down for the count, but not nearly hard enough to kill them or do any serious and long standing damage. 

Steve followed him soon after, clearly unphased but a little annoyed by Bucky’s use of him as a human weapon. He fell to the landing next to him, working to fight alongside him.

A soldier ran towards Bucky, raising his melee to strike, but Bucky intercepted him, tossing him over the railing.

Steve lunged forward, grabbing the man by his arm. He looked at Bucky with an exasperated glare. “Come on, man,” he drawled out.

Bucky rolled his eyes and elbowed the man behind him sharply. He was almost to his evacuation point. Just a few more floors down. He tore off the banister from the stairs and used it to swing down into the next wave of cops. He fought his way through the officers over to the railing. _One more floor_. He shoved the soldier in front of him aside and jumped over, aiming to land on the next flight of stairs. But he undershot, and just barely missed the rail. In a desperate attempt to make it, he lunged out to grab the railing with his flesh hand.

His body crashed down heavily, pulling tight on his arm. He cried out at the shock of the strain and tightened his grip, contorting his face in focus. _Almost there, Buck_ , he thought to himself.

He swung his other arm up and latched onto the railing as he pulled his body up and over. The hallway opened up in front of him, the open balcony at the end of it. He was at the final stretch. He took a deep breath before dashing forward, building up the momentum before taking that final leap. 

As he soared through the air, there was only one thought shooting through his mind: that he was leading them away from you and you would be left alone…

* * *

…but boy he couldn’t be any more wrong.


	13. Chapter 13

You weren’t sure what was going on exactly as you lay there in the tub, curled up in the fetal position with your arms wrapped around your head to do what little you could to protect it. 

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest. Over and over again it struck your ribs, enhancing the anxiety you were feeling.

You had heard gunshots. _Fucking gunshots,_ and you couldn’t tell who was firing them or who they were aimed at.

God, you prayed Bucky was okay.

His face as he told you to hide was seared into your mind. He was terrified that Captain America was in his apartment. You hadn’t seen him that scared in months, not since he had made a mess in your kitchen and was afraid that you’d get mad at him for the disaster.

Bucky wasn’t a man who was easily frightened, so the fact that he was actually showing his fear chilled you to the bone.

Your were drawn from your thoughts by the sharp thuds of something hitting the bathroom door. You shrieked with every bang. Whoever had come for Bucky was here for you now.

The door shuddered under the force until finally, it fell from its hinges.

You screamed in terror as men in camouflaged uniforms, all brandishing military grade guns flooded into the tiny bathroom. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for an impact that you didn’t know would come.

One of them shouted something in a language you didn’t understand. You thought it might be German, but you weren’t sure. When you didn’t respond, he repeated his words.

You cautiously opened your eyes to look at them, and it took all of your willpower to not break down into frightened tears.

The soldiers conversed a little bit more in their foreign language before one of them turned to face you. “English?” he asked with a heavy German accent.

You slowly nodded your head.

The soldier, too, nodded in response. He lifted his wrist up to his mouth and spoke into the communication device that was residing there, “Subject is female, appears to be non-hostile and terrified. Assumed victim of Barnes. We’re taking her with.” When he was done, he smiled softly and offered you his hand. “What’s your name, Miss?” 

You gingerly reached up and took it, shaking as you stood to climb out of the tub. “(y/n) (l/n),” you answered with a trembling voice.

“Miss (l/n), please come with us. We will take care of you and protect you.”

You didn’t want to go with them. You wanted to go home to your apartment and sleep this whole nightmare away, but you didn’t think they’d let you. You reluctantly nodded your head.

They instantly began to lead you out of the apartment, purposely staying in between you and the main room to block your line of sight. Your stomach dropped. Was there a body? Did they kill him?!

So many scenarios shifted through your mind as they took you out and down the wreaked stairwell.

The one predominant thought, however, was “ _Bucky, please be safe._ ”

———————-

The agents had taken you from the apartment building to a small airport where a medium sized helicopter sat waiting on a platform.

You were being guided by the soldier who had helped you out of the tub earlier, his arm wrapped around your shoulder in a comforting gesture. It was almost as if he could sense the anxiety rolling off your body in waves and felt the need to help you.

As you walked towards the helicopter, you heard a familiar voice shout your name.

“(y/n)!” he called.

You turned to look over your shoulder and you almost sobbed with relief. “Andrei!” You moved out from your soldier’s arm that was wrapped around your shoulders and ran to meet your friend.

He was dressed in all of his tactical gear, but he was still ready to engulf you in a hug. “I heard what happened. James? That’s who they think did it?”

You nodded. “I-I think. But they keep calling him something else. The Winter Soldier? Andrei I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on. They came after him with guns and I don’t know if he’s hurt or okay or what.”

Andrei’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know what’s going on either, but I promise I’ll find out for you. For now, you need to go with these men, they’ll keep you safe. I’ll find you when I know more.”

You bit your lip and rubbed at your nose. “Okay. Just please, find him for me and tell him I’m okay.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “I will.”

You smiled weakly at him, feeling a small weight being lifted from your chest. “Thank you,” you said.

He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “You’re welcome. I’ll give Nicole a call and tell her that you’re okay, but for now, go on with Heinrich,” he said gesturing towards the soldier who was waiting for you. “He’ll take you to where you need to be.”

“Alright. Take care, Andrei,” you said as you walked back to join Heinrich.”

“You too, (y/n).” He smiled softly and started to walk away.

You took a deep breath and clamored into the helicopter.

As everyone had settled into the aircraft, gotten their headsets on, and put on their seat belts, the helicopter began its ascent.

If you looked out the window, you could see the city below. If you squinted enough, you could make out some of the buildings and pinpoint where exactly in Bucharest you were. Higher and higher the helicopter climbed and slowly but surely the city disappeared from sight and Romania was left behind.

Several hours later, the helicopter began to descend.

Heinrich beside you gently nudged your shoulder. “We are in Berlin,” he said quietly. “Once we land you will be taken to a facility where they will help you decide what to do next.”

You nodded in understanding and waited for the copter to land.

Finally, after ten minutes, it did and you were helped out of the aircraft and led over to a SUV. Instantly you thought you were in the wrong car.

Sitting in the back row was Sam Wilson, the Falcon himself, looking surly and agitated. In the middle row you were starting to get settled in was Steve Rogers whom you had seen only hours ago. In the front row was a man you had only seen on TV, and not even that much, Prince T’Challa of Wakanda.

You looked back at the soldier who was escorting you, your gaze wide with terror. Why the fuck were you being put in this car with two superheroes and a prince?

He ignored you and shut the door behind you.

With no choice but to just sit tight and wait out the ride, you buckled in and settled in for a long and uncomfortable ride.

It was suffocating, being there sitting next to the Steve Rogers, the Captain America who was in your history textbooks back in elementary school and in the same car as another Avenger and a Wakandan royal. The tension in the vehicle was so high it made you squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

The silence was finally broken by the man sitting behind you, Sam Wilson, you thought was his name. You couldn’t really remember but to be fair, you had been avoiding all news concerning the Avengers or anything related to them.

He cleared his throat. “So, you like cats?”

Steve frowned. “Sam,” he scolded.

“What?” Sam asked in a defensive tone. “‘Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don’t want to know more?”

You scrunched your nose up. Dressed like a cat? Just who the hell were these people and what bizarre shit were they into?

Steve sighed but looked at the prince seated in front of you. “Your suit…” he started. “It’s vibranium?”

The prince narrowed his eyes as he glanced sideways. “The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations,” he said stoically. “A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior. And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.”

“…your friend murdered my father.” Surely he couldn’t mean Bucky. Bucky had been with you, there was no way he could’ve snuck out and murdered anyone. He _wouldn’t_ have snuck out and murdered anyone. The Bucky you knew was _not_ a killer.

“So I ask you… as both warrior and king…” He turned his head and looked at Steve. “How long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

Steve didn’t respond, his face growing stone cold as the car went down a ramp into an underground hanger.

As the car slowed to a stop, guards flanked the vehicle from the outside. They opened the door for you and one offered his hand. “Miss (l/n), please come with us,” he requested with a cold tone.

You quietly took his hand and climbed out, falling in line with the small group that was getting ready to follow the men deeper into the facility. The guards led the four of you into a small hanger where a forklift was bringing in a large pod made of glass and metal. You couldn’t see the occupant, but you could only imagine it must be some high risk prisoner with how many guards there.

Steve drew your attention to the front of the group as you came up to a man in a business suit and a woman in sparce tactical gear. He frowned at the two. “What’s gonna happen to him?” he asked tensely.

“Same thing that ought to happen to you,” the man in the suit answered with a matter-of-fact tone. “Psychological evaluation and extradition.”

The woman cleared her throat. “This is Everett Ross,” she introduced. “Deputy Task Force Commander.”

“What about a lawyer?” Steve asked.

The man laughed. “Lawyer. That’s funny.” He shook his head and turned to one of the nearby guards. “See their weapons are placed in lock up.” At Sam’s concerned look, he smiled patronizingly. “Oh, we’ll write you a receipt.”

Sam scoffed. “I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that.”

They group began to walk deeper into the hanger and you began to walk with them. You glanced back towards the large pod that was still being carried in and you swore your heart stopped.

That high risk prisoner you thought was in there wasn’t a high risk person as all; it was Bucky.

You hadn’t seen him since he had told you to hide in his bathroom. You had been so scared that he’d be hurt but he appeared unscathed.

His jacket and hat were long discarded, leaving his hair free to just be. His face held no expression, but in his eyes you could see it all. He was scared, nervous, and just _tired_. The sight of him locked in the cage, with the metal harness over his shoulders and the cuffs around his hands just looking so defeated made your heart throb with pain.

“Bucky…” you breathed out as you deviated from the group, veering off track with your legs subconsciously steering you towards the only person who was familiar anymore. 

He glanced up at the movement, his eyes flashing with recognition and sadness as he saw you. His lips silently formed your name and, even though he was shielded by the layers of shatter and sound proof glass, you could’ve sworn you heard his faint whisper.

You reached out a hand to him, desperate to touch him and reassure him that everything was going to be okay, when a hand on your shoulder stopped you dead in your tracks. You turned to look behind you.

It was the Deputy Task Force Commander, Everett you recalled to be his name, who stopped you. His eyes were cold yet compassionate as he jerked his head towards the waiting group and their escorts. “This way, miss,” he said coolly, but the underlying message was there. Come with us or we will make you.

You took a shaky breath and nodded, following after him silently as you tried so hard to keep your body from trembling.

Everett could tell, however, just how terrified you were though. He knew that this wasn’t your element, that you had never asked for any of this. So how, he wondered, did you get involved with the Winter Soldier?

You squeezed your hands into tight fists as you walked down the hallway, matching his brisk pace. “You think he was the one who did the bombing in Vienna,” you said quietly, your voice shaking with each word. 

He nodded. “He was. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it was him. We have video proof.”

You shook your head. “You’re wrong. It couldn’t have been him.”

Everett didn’t respond to you as the group climbed several flights of stairs that deposited them onto a covered skywalk. He straightened up. “You’ll be provided with an office instead of a cell,” he said, directing his words towards the heroes. “Now, do me a favor and stay in it?”

T’Challa snickered. “I don’t intend on going anywhere.”

As you reached the middle of the skywalk, you were joined by a woman with red hair whom you noticed to be Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow from the Avengers. She fell in stride next to Steve and had an agitated air about her. “For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” she snapped.

Steve stared ahead. “He’s alive,” he responded matter-of-factly.

You found little comfort in that remark. Sure he was alive, but he was a prisoner of people who thought he did something that he had no part of.

The group proceeded into a room that looked like central command. It was an office on steroids with dozens of agents sitting at dozens of computers and a whole wall of monitors displaying various security feeds, world times, and live video.

In the midst of the organized chaos, a man sat on his phone. Instantly you recognized him to be _the_ Tony Stark of Stark Industries, also known to the world as Iron Man.

Tony didn’t notice you all yet, instead chattering away on his cell. “No. Romania was not Accords-sanctioned. And, Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup.”

Natasha leaned over to Steve’s ear. “Try not to break anything while we fix this,” she said before walking over to Tony’s side.

Tony stood up as he locked eyes with Steve, and he raised his voice so you all could hear as he said, “Consequences? You bet there’ll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that ‘cause I just said it. Anything else? Thank you, sir.”

As Tony hung up the phone, Steve quirked an eyebrow in response. “’Consequences?’”

“Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted,” Tony stated simply. “Had to give him something.”

Steve cracked a dry smile. “I’m not getting that shield back, am I?”

Natasha raised her eyebrows as she turned to walk backwards. “Technically, it’s the government’s property. Wings too,” she added.

Sam frowned. “That’s cold.”

“Warmer than jail!” Tony called back over his shoulder as he led Steve into the center office.

As the two of them left, everyone began to disperse, leaving you and Everett alone.

You looked at him with a worried look. “What’s going to happen to him?” you whimpered.

He looked a little surprised at your voice, you had been so quiet previously, he had kind of forgotten you, a civilian, were there. “As I said before, psych evaluation and extradition. He’ll most likely be shipped off to jail for his crime or a mental institute for his insanity.”

You shook your head. “No! He’s not a criminal and he’s perfectly sane! Why won’t you let him go?”

At that, Everett’s face melted into one of sympathy and he looked at you like you were a victim of some horrible scheme. “Miss (l/n), you must really not know who it is we’re dealing with here.”

“Oh I know perfectly well,” you said quickly. “You’re dealing with James Barnes, probably the best, most kindest man I have ever met. And you’re treating him like a criminal.”

“Because he is a criminal,” he responded. He led you over to a series of monitors and quickly typed the words “Winter Soldier” into a generic internet search bar.

Instantly news articles, pictures, and document search results popped up. All of the pictures displayed Bucky and you had to say the images concerned you. You recognized his face, but not the angry, cold, and robotic look in his eyes. In all the pictures he was carrying a weapon of some sort and looking menacing as hell.

“Your boyfriend,” Everett started. “Is James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, a man responsible for countless deaths over the last few decades. He was affiliated with the terrorist group HYDRA up until he disappeared off our radar two years ago. Maybe you remember the incident with the airships in D.C. around that time?”

The event was barely there in your memory, but you vaguely recalled hearing about HYDRA infiltrating SHIELD two years ago. You nodded.

“He was a part of that operation. Barnes is a dangerous man. He’s reckless, erratic, insane, and a weapon of mass destruction. How he found himself in Bucharest and managed to drag you into all of this, I don’t know.”

The man he was describing was not your Bucky, and you refused to believe your ears. “He wasn’t in Vienna. He didn’t do it. And I don’t know who you’re talking about, but the Bucky I know would never do something like this.”

Everett gazed at you with his face full of sympathy. “(y/n)… I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, but Barnes is a dangerous man, regardless of what he’s led you on to believe—”

“He hasn’t led me on at all!” you snapped. “Bucky is a good, honest, and sweet man. He didn’t bomb Vienna.”

He laughed weakly. “He did. We have footage of him in Vienna.”

“Well that’s impossible cause he was with me the whole day.”

The look on Everett’s face became patronizing as he nodded along like one would do with a child describing a fantasy tale. “Mhmm. Why don’t you go sit down, Miss. We have some work to do.”“He didn’t do it!” you insisted, raising your voice a little bit. “And I can prove it! He was with me in my apartment the whole day. I have security cameras that caught us on tape at the time of the bombing. He didn’t do it.”The mention of the security cameras caught Everett’s attention, and his head perked up. “You have proof?”You nodded. “Yes. Give me a computer and I can hack into my system and pull up the feed from yesterday. Just please, let him go.”

Everett snapped his fingers and the nearest assistant rushed forward brandishing an advanced and expensive looking laptop. “Show us,” he ordered.

You frowned and looked at the screens showing the live feed from Bucky’s pod. “Let him go,” you ordered back.

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Miss (l/n), but we are not at liberty to do so yet. He is still a criminal and needs to be evaluated. So until we can figure out what sort of mental state he is in, he will be staying in that pod. Now you can either make this easier for us by showing us your evidence, or harder by refusing and delaying the process. Your choice.”

You wanted to give him some snarky, smart-ass comment, but at the moment clearing Bucky’s name was more important than your pride. You sighed and sat down, opening up the laptop and quickly getting to work.

You had never been more grateful for one of Bucky’s paranoid requests. You had griped and complained about the cameras before, saying they weren’t necessary and were a waste of money, but now you were thanking whatever higher power there was that you had allowed Bucky to proceed with his crazy schemes.

As you began to pull up the basic codes and screens to hack into your cameras, the overhead sound system crackled to life.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” came a voice from above.

Your head snapped up towards the monitors where you saw a live feed of a man standing next to a desk across from Bucky’s pod. Bucky was still restrained inside. The evaluation was beginning.

“I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit?” At the silence he took a seat in the chair and spread out his files. “Your first name is James?”

You turned away from the screens as your fingers began to move faster and faster. You had to get this feed up and fast so that they would at least clear his name.

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions,” the evaluator said slowly.

You took a deep breath as you searched for the feed of cameras located in your apartment building, zeroing in on the solitary camera Bucky had installed. You were practically shaking in your seat. You were almost there.

“Do you know where you are, James?” He was met with silence. He sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.”

A new voice crackled to life on the speakers. Weak and defeated, it answered, “My voice is Bucky.”

You faltered in your typing as you felt your heart shatter. You’d never heard him like this, and every instinct in your body was screaming at you to drop everything and run to him, comfort him, bring back that smile you had grown so accustomed to, anything.

With the last bit of resolve you had, you began to scroll through the times your camera had been recording until you finally found what you were looking for. With a few clicks of your mouse, the screen lit up, playing a video.

The video from yesterday, around the time of the attack on Vienna according to the timestamp, appeared on the screen, displaying you and Bucky sprawled out on your couch with amused smiles on your faces. His flesh arm was wrapped around your waist and his head was resting against yours, but he wasn’t watching the TV. Instead, he was gazing down at your face with a gaze full of love and adoration.

Everett pulled his gaze away from the screens showing the live feed and turned to look at the feed. His face slowly melted into one of disbelief as he recognized the two of you. “Son of a bitch…” he mumbled.

You left him to watch the computer as you looked around the room, observing your surroundings. Steve and Sam had been set up in the center office with the blonde woman from before, and it made you feel a little more calm to see theirs somewhat familiar faces. You eventually turned away from them as you looked up at the monitors that were broadcasting Bucky in his pod. Your heart ached as you watched the footage.

“Tell me, Bucky,” the evaluator said.”You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” he asked as he looked down at his sheets.

Bucky turned his head away from the man, his expression pained. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he whimpered out.

The man tilted his head. “You fear that… if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.”

The horrors… You stared at Bucky’s face on the screen. What had he seen? What had happened in the past? Who was the Winter Soldier and why did they say Bucky was him? What had been done to him? You couldn’t even imagine.

The man smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said with a twisted grin. “We only have to talk about one.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth the power in the building went out, plunging the room into darkness as the monitors and lights switched off.

Everett tore his gaze from the computer screen that he had been watching religiously. His face immediately hardened, and he went back into business mode. “Great. Come on, guys, get me eyes on Barnes. Go!”

Your breath hitched and without a thought you ran towards the center office that held Steve and Sam.

Both men were looking just as panicked as you felt when you got there and they hardly acknowledged your presence as the woman turned to them and said, “Sub-level five, east wing.”

Sam and Steve turned to bolt only to find you standing in their path.

You stared up at them. “You’re going to get him. Let me come with. He trusts me,” you said hurriedly. If they were going down there to get Bucky, you sure as hell wanted to go with. You needed to see for yourself that he was alright… and you had some questions.

Sam looked ready to protest but Steve cut him off with a curt nod. “Let’s go,” he said as he started running.

You and Sam wasted no time in running after him, and although it destroyed your lungs, you kept pace with the heroes. Down and down you went as you descended the levels towards where Bucky was being kept.

Finally, you reached the sub-level five and the chamber where he was supposed to be.

You slowed to a stop as the scene came into view, and you gasped in shock.

The chamber was illuminated briefly by flashing red emergency lights, casting a faint glow on the bodies of agents slumped on the floor. All of them were out cold and some were bleeding from their noses. 

The air was eerily quiet. You felt the need to hold your breath to keep the silence, but it was impossible not to be breathing quickly.

Ahead of you lay Bucky’s pod but no Bucky. The bulletproof glass door had been blown off its hinges, the glass cracked in one spot where it seemed to have been punched over and over again. Had Bucky done that? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

A small voice in the corner of the chamber drew your attention away from the pod. “Help me…” it whimpered. “Help…”

You turned to look at the voice and gasped in shock. It was the evaluator crumpled in a heap. He looked so weak.

Steve stomped over to him. “Get up,” he ordered roughly as he hoisted him up and shoved him against the wall. “Who are you? What do you want?” he demanded in a threatening voice.

The evaluator’s face shifted with a smirk. “To see an empire fall…” he muttered.

At that moment it seemed all hell broke loose. 

As Sam began to walk into one of the chambers, a metal fist slammed into the wall right next to his head. It would’ve taken off his head too if Sam hadn’t ducked at the last second.

You turned around quickly to see Bucky grab Sam by the jaw and throw him against the open pod. You scrambled away from him as Steve lurched towards your boyfriend, landing a punch that hardly seemed to face him.

In return, Bucky began to kick and punch at Steve, driving him backwards and out of the chamber into the hall.

You watched with a mixture of awe and horror as his body moved with such fluidity that spoke of having done something similar multiple times before. He fought with such expertise it could’ve been mesmerizing. It would have been mesmerizing if you weren’t so terrified of him fighting so fiercely.

Bucky spun on his heel and threw another punch at Steve, just barely missing the super soldier’s head but punching a whole through the elevator door behind him. Bucky threw another punch, this one being one that Steve had been able to block. However, the force was enough to send Steve tumbling back and down the empty elevator shaft. 

You shrieked in fear as Steve fell back, but you instantly regretted the sound.

Bucky had been uninterested in you for the longest time, but now that you had made your presence known, there was no going back.

He stared at you, his eyes cold and lifeless, unrecognizable as the eyes you had gazed into so many times before. His body was rigid, much more tensed than you had ever seen him before. He looked almost robotic.

You frowned, your breathing becoming shallow. “James…?” you asked in a whisper. You hardly ever used his first name, but right now, you weren’t looking for the Bucky they had told you was the Winter Soldier nor the Bucky that Steve Rogers seemed to know. You were looking for your Bucky, your James.

But he wasn’t there.

Surely, you thought, this must be the Winter Soldier they spoke about.

And the fact that your Bucky had taken on such a demeanor in such little time scared you. What had happened when the power went out?

Bucky began to stalk towards you, not unlike an animal stalking his prey. His eyes were predatory, threatening and dangerous. You couldn’t even recognize him.

With every step forward he took, you matched it as you backpedaled away. “Bucky,” you said again trying hard to keep your voice even and nonthreatening.

He didn’t answer, instead he quickened his pace and widened his stride. Within seconds he was standing right in front of you, towering over your form.

“Buck—”

He stopped your speaking as he shot out his hand, closing his cool metal fingers around your throat.

You cried out in shock as you lifted your hands to try his fingers from your neck, but you only resulted in making him tighten them.

He lifted you a few centimeters off the ground, his face cold and unfeeling.

You gasped for air as his hand gripped your windpipe. “B-Bucky!” you rasped out with the little air you had. “S-Stop! I-I-It’s me, (y/n).” You were starting to feel the pressure on your lungs as they ached to be filled. “Y-Your doll!”

He remained stoic, expressionless, robotic.

Your vision was starting to blur as small little stars danced across your line of sight. You honestly thought that this was how you were going to die: at the hands of the one you loved. And if this was it, you reasoned, so be it. But you weren’t going to leave this world without letting him know how you felt about him, even if he was too far gone to understand.

And so, with all the strength you could muster, you stared into his eyes with your tearful ones. The teardrops were catching on your lashes blurring your vision further and, with the last little breath you had remaining in your lungs, you croaked out, “I-I love you, B-Buck.”

With one final gasp, your vision faded to black, having the last thing you’d seen be the face of James Buchanan Barnes… Bucky… your Bucky…


	14. Chapter 14

Your eyes snapped open and you shot up in a wave of panic, your lips parted in a silent scream. 

But you couldn’t make a noise. Your throat hurt too much.

Breathing was painful to your esophagus, and each breath made you gasp in discomfort. You gingerly reached up to touch your neck to scope out the damage when a voice made you halt. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” it warned.

You looked up, your (e/c) eyes meeting the piercing gaze of the bright blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

“B-Bucky?” you croaked out, but speaking was painful too. Your face contorted in an uncomfortable expression as you cut off your voice.

“He’s fine. He’s asleep,” Steve said as he walked over to sit next to your small makeshift cot.

You nodded as you felt a small weight lift from your chest. You took a deep breath and allowed your gaze to wander over your new and unfamiliar surroundings.

You appeared to be in a huge abandoned warehouse, sitting down on an old and somewhat dirty mattress. At one side of the large cavernous room stood Sam Wilson, standing alert and on edge, and, lying across from you with his metallic left arm clamped in a huge industrial vice, lay Bucky knocked out cold. From the expression on his face, you could tell it was a very restless sleep.

You stared at him, your heart breaking as your throat throbbed at the memory of his fingers wrapped tightly around your neck as he had tried to choke the life out of you. “What happened?” you asked quietly so as to not agitated the bruising you were certain you were sporting any further.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him like that way since D.C. Sam came too right as Bucky dropped you. He said that he had been holding you off the ground by your neck and you had said something inaudible that made Bucky drop you and run. I left him to take care of you while I chased after Bucky. When we got him subdued we brought him here, and we couldn’t very well leave you behind so we brought you too. Sorry if you would’ve rather stayed back at the bunker.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. Where ever Bucky is… I want to be there too,” you said, resolve heavy in your voice despite its raspiness.

He managed a weak smile. “You two are close, aren’t you?”

You breathed a small laugh. “You could say that.” You shifted your gaze over to Bucky and your smile turned sad. “He was my neighbor for nearly the past year and somewhere along the way… Well, the goof made me fall in love with him,” you said reminiscing about the last eight months. You bit your lip. “I should’ve listened to him. We should’ve just stayed in bed, that stupid pie be damned. Maybe then all of this…” You didn’t realize you had started crying until Steve reached forward and wiped away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb.

He smiled at you comfortingly. “It wasn’t your fault, (y/n). They would’ve come for him either way, and then maybe you or he would’ve gotten even more hurt.”

 _Well that wasn’t comforting at all,_ you thought sarcastically to yourself, but you nodded along.

Steve leaned down as he moved to study your expression. “Who is he to you? he asked quietly.

You opened your mouth to respond but you were cut off by Sam calling out, “Hey, Cap!”

You looked up to see what was going on and your breath hitched.

Bucky was waking up.

You and Steve climbed to your feet and went over to join Sam. 

Bucky was just barely conscious, still half asleep and disoriented. He groaned. “Steve? (y/n)?”

Steve crossed his arms and stared down at the man. “Which Bucky am I talking to?” he asked coldly. 

Bucky frowned. “Your mom’s name was Sarah…” He snickered a little bit. “Y-You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” His voice sounded like normal, and you could see it in his eyes that he was no longer under the influence of whatever had happened in the chamber.

Steve knew it too, and he smiled. “Can’t read that in a museum.”

Sam didn’t look too convinced. “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened as he looked around at the three of you, his eyes finally settling on your neck. “What did I do?” he rasped out, his voice frightened.

“Enough,” Steve said solemnly.

“Oh, God…” he hung his head in shame. “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

The words? Your brows furrowed. All someone had to do was say a few words and Bucky would… You didn’t want to finish that thought; it scared you to think about it.

“Who was he?” Steve demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you,” Steve snapped. “I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know.’”

Bucky frowned, his brows furrowed in concentration. “He wanted to know about Siberia.” He lifted his gaze up, meeting your eyes. They were full of pain from memories and you once again wondered just what had happened to him. “Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

Steve frowned. “Why would he need to know that?”

“Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier,” Bucky said, his voice growing louder with the assertion.

There were more of him? Just who the hell was doing this to them?

“Who were they?” Steve asked.

“The most elite death squad,” Bucky answered. “More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.”

The serum? What serum? You were totally lost, but Steve and Sam seemed to be on the same track as him.

“They all turn out like you?” Sam asked warily.

Bucky nodded his confirmation. “Worse.”

“The doctor,” Steve started, “could he control them?”

“Enough.”

This made Steve pause and turn his gaze down. “He said he wanted to see an empire fall…”

Bucky nodded. “With these guys he could do it. They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight. Infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You’d never see them coming.”

The idea was daunting and shook you to the bone. You had always been vaguely aware that Bucky was stealthy, scary if he wanted, and hella good at defending himself and others. That much was made clear when he had rescued you from your attacker all those months ago. But if there were more people like him and they chose to use those abilities to hurt rather than help, you could only imagine what chaos they could create.

Sam sighed and stepped up to Steve. “This would’ve been a lot easier a week ago.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “If we call Tony…”

“No,” Sam interrupted. “He won’t believe us.”

“Even if he did…”

“Who knows if the Accords would let him help,” Sam finished.

Steve sighed. “We’re on our own.”

Sam hummed. “Maybe not… I know a guy.”

Bucky sat up straighter. “Wait… Before we do anything, c-can I just talk to (y/n)? Alone?”

Steve’s gaze shifted in between you and his eyes softened. He nodded. “Yeah. We’ll leave you guys to it.” He turned to Bucky and walked closer to him. He settled his hands on the vice still holding Bucky in place and pried it off. “We need to make a few calls and then we’ll be ready to figure out where to go next. Okay?”

Bucky nodded silently. He stood up and rotated his metallic arm, shifting the joints to make sure it was still operational. The whole time he never took his eyes off of you.

“Come on, Sam,” Steve prodded and together the two of them left the main part of the warehouse into a side room.

The second you were left alone in the room with Bucky you ran over to him and into his arms. You broke down into tears, the stress of the last twenty-four hours finally catching up to you. your legs giving out beneath you.

Bucky engulfed you in his embrace as he slowly lowered your bodies to the ground, pulling you closer so you were seated sideways on his lap and he was holding you. He rocked slowly back and forth, resting his chin on the top of your head. Nearly every single part of your body was touching him, and in a way it was comforting.

“Shhh,” he whispered as he rocked you slowly. “It’s alright doll, I’m here now.”

“I’m sorry Bucky!” you wailed as you clung to his torso like your life depended on it. “I-I should’ve listened to you! We never should’ve gone out. It could’ve waited but I—”

“Hey,” he said cutting off your rambling. “This is not your fault. This is in no way at all your fault. If anything it’s mine. I should’ve told you who I was, but I was scared you’d run away from me. I was selfish in thinking that I could have a normal life, but I wanted to try for both our sakes.” He began to pet your hair soothingly, rubbing your head with each touch. He sniffed a little bit as he looked down at you. “But now, because of my stupid selfishness, you’ve gotten hurt,” he said gingerly cupping his hand around the back of your neck. He gazed down at the purple fingerprint bruises forming on your neck. “And it’s all my fault.”

You pulled away from him and stared at his face. “No. No I don’t want you to blame yourself for this. Y-You weren’t in control,” you said in between your involuntary sobs.

“I was though,” he countered with a sad smile. “I was in control when I brought you back your bike. I should’ve just left you alone to live your life, but I just had to get involved and drag you into all this shit.” He smiled sadly. “If I hadn’t have done all those things to get close to you, you would be at home, in your comfortable bed, living your life as normally as you could. It’s my fault.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky, please don’t say that.”

“But it’s true doll.”

Your crying had dialed itself down a few notches, and you were calm enough to turn and face him. “No it’s not. You weren’t the only one who wanted to get involved with the either. I wanted to get to know you too, so if we’re pointing fingers here, I think we should both share the blame,” you said quietly, careful of your painful throat. And although it hurt to get the words out, you knew they were important for him to hear, especially now. “You are not responsible for this.”

He didn’t look too convinced. “(y/n) I…” He trailed off and squinted his eyes as he lifted them to the covered sky. He honestly looked like he was about to cry, and there was nothing you could really do about it. “I didn’t want to do this this way, but I think it’s time I tell you about my past.”

That caught your attention, and you looked at him with curious eyes.

“N-Now seems to be as good a time as ever,” he said quietly. “And… I want you to know the truth before you say anything else about how I’m not responsible or about how this isn’t my fault. I should’ve told you long ago, but I was scared that I would lose you. I’m _still_ scared, but you deserve to know the truth.” He took a shaky breath and began to speak, “I was born on March 10, 1917, as the oldest of four kids in Brooklyn.” At your shocked expression he laughed weakly. “Yes. I am around a hundred years old.”

You stared at him incredulously. He was older than your grandfather. Heck he was older than your _great_ -grandfather, and you were dating him. Your eyes scanned his face, looking for any indication of his true age, but the only wrinkles he possessed were the wrinkles around his eyes from smiling. “O-Oh,” you said meekly. “Well on the bright side, you look _fantastic_ for a hundred.” 

He chuckled. “Thank you. I’ll go over my skin care routine sometime in the story.”

You chuckled, the noise scratching angrily at your pained throat but you ignored it. “Okay.”

“I grew up in Brooklyn like every normal kid. I did good in school, played some sports, made friends, hung out at Mr. Blue’s,” at this you snickered a bit remembering his amazement at the fact that it was still operational. He smiled. “I was just a normal kid. I met Steve when bullies were trying to steal his money and defended him. We were best of friends after that, always together and inseparable. The punk never knew when to run from a fight so I always ended up saving his butt.” He laughed fondly. “And then, when the war hit, I got drafted and got trained at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin. Eventually, I became Sergeant Barnes of the 107th. They shipped us out to England and we fought on the front lines. The Nazis they…” he frowned and shook his head. “They ambushed us at Azzano and we were made HYDRA’s prisoners of war. And there, this scientist, Zola, he experimented on me.”

You felt your heart shatter for what felt like the millionth time when he mentioned his capture and the fact that this sick scientist actually used him for human experimentation. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

He settled his arms around your form with a shaky breath and began to rub small circles on your arms. “Steve rescued us that November. I remember being so confused. I left and he was this scrawny, short kid from Brooklyn who couldn’t back down from a fight and he came to me all big and buff. The one thing that stayed though was his determination, and he used that to save what was left of my regiment.”

Your gaze flickered towards the other room where the Captain America himself was standing. 

“Later, he set up a special team,” Bucky continued, lost in his reminiscing. “We were called ‘The Howling Commandos,’ and if you ask me, we were pretty bad-ass.” He snickered. “We focused on destroying HYDRA’s army units, tanks and other facilities, making sure that they were being diminished while enhancing our own armies. I was their sniper; part of the reason I’m so good with math. I had to be in order to calculate certain shots.”

Well that explained a lot. You nodded along, acknowledging the information.

His gaze darkened. “We were on a mission in the Alps. The memory gets a little fuzzy around here. It always has but some of it has come back. I-I think we were going to take a train that was carrying Zola, interrogate him about HYDRA’s leader. On the train, we were attacked by a team of soldiers Zola sent to kill us. We fought them off, and just as we thought we were in the clear, another one came. He shot one of their weapons and it just barely missed me. It blew a hole in the side of the train, though. I was using Steve’s shield as I tried to shoot him, but he shot first and the blast knocked me off the train. I grabbed onto the damaged train railing and I just remember being so scared that that was it. Steve… he tried to reach me. He was so close to grabbing me, but then the railing snapped and I…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to understand what happened. He had fallen off a cliff. How he had survived, you didn’t know. You hugged him tighter. “Oh Bucky…”

He sniffed. “Zola had injected me with something when he had been experimenting on me. I think it was his attempt on the super soldier serum they gave Steve, but whatever it was, it helped me survive the fall. My arm, however, wasn’t so lucky.” He moved his metallic arm over so you could see it more clearly. “I lay there in the snow for a few days until a Soviet soldier found me and handed me over to HYDRA. This part is also fuzzy so bear with me here.” He frowned and lowered his gaze in thought. “Zola, when he got out of prison, he started his experiments back up on me. He gave me this new arm and used mind control methods to keep me compliant and obedient. Over time I lost all my memory of my life before and became nothing more than just their weapon.” 

_The Winter Soldier,_ you thought to yourself.

Sadness clouded his features and he carried on with his story. “They used me as their weapons for decades, sticking me in cyro whenever they didn’t need me to keep me from aging. Whenever I had done whatever they needed me to do, which was usually to kill a threat or two, they’d wipe my mind to keep me memory-free and emotionless. I had become a cold-hearted killer.” He looked so angry, and you couldn’t blame him. 

You were getting angry yourself, but you weren’t mad at him. You were mad at those men that had turned him into something he wasn’t.

“For decades this went on. Then two years ago, they had me try to kill Steve and some other SHIELD big-shots. I would have too, but when the helicarriers came down and I was fighting Steve, something clicked and I recognized him. I couldn’t finish my mission. And so I saved him, left him for the authorities to find him and I set off on my own.”

He took another shuddering breath. “I was on the run from the government. I was a wanted man, I knew that. I’d done so much evil in my life that I wanted a fresh start. So I went to Romania. The plan was to lay low, get an honest job, figure out who I was and who I wanted to be, but never once did I take into account the possibility of someone like you waltzing into my life. And yet, there you were, (y/n), bringing me your stupidly delicious plum pie as a welcoming gift, and there was just something about you. I couldn’t stay away. I _didn’t want_ to stay away. And then next thing I knew, I was falling in love with you. It was the first _real_ thing I had experienced other than fear in so long, and I didn’t want it to go away.”

A small smile crossed his lips as he remembered the happier times, but it was quickly replaced by a dissatisfied frown. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but it’s too late for that now, despite my best efforts.” He sighed and turned to face you head on. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, but having heard everything, I’ll understand if you want to leave, and I won’t stop you.” He sounded so dejected and heartbroken that it physically pained you.

“Leave?” you croaked out. “Of course I don’t want to leave. I care about you to much to leave you. I don’t care about what you’ve done in the past, or that you’re a hundred years old. I don’t care about that. But I do care about you, and who you are and who you’ve become to me. Like it or not, you’re a part of my life now, and it’s not a part I can just let go of so easily. I won’t leave you because of the man you were, I’ll stay because of the man you are: James Buchanan Barnes, my Bucky. My Bucky who brought back my stolen bike. My Bucky who came to me when he needed help with his memory. My Bucky who made me his mother’s cherry pie as a thank you. My Bucky who rescued me from a mugger who I now think had an alternative motive.” You laughed nervously at the memory but continued on. “My Bucky who made me install a security system to ease his paranoia. My Bucky who took me out on a disaster of a date but then made it up with a pizza and movie. My Bucky who kissed me at the turn of the new year. My Bucky who agreed to be the godfather of my best friend’s baby. My Bucky who I love with my whole heart, because he makes me so, so happy. And I wouldn’t give him up for the world.”

He was crying by the end of your little speech, the silent tears running down in tiny streams on his cheeks. The look on his face was pure, uncontrolled joy and it made your heart soar. He pulled you closer into his torso as he hugged you tightly, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. “Oh, (y/n),” he whimpered out in between his quiet sobs.

You wrapped your arms around his back, cupping the back of his neck and carefully combing your fingers through the hairs along the base. “Shh… It’s okay, Bucky.”

He sniffed. “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled softly. “You do. It’s about damn time that something good happened to you. You deserve this happiness more than you know.”

You two sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for hours. Neither of you had to say a thing, both just comfortable to sit in the other’s company. 

The sun slowly began to set outside, casting a soft glow in the warehouse.

Steve came into the room after a while, the fading light filtering through the cracks of the warehouse walls and shining on his skin. He cautiously walked over to you and Bucky as one might walk towards a scared animal.

Bucky looked up from your figure, his eyes losing all their affection and compassion and returning to what you were beginning to see as his “business mode.” “What’s the decision?” he asked lowly.

Steve crouched down in front of you both, his gaze solemn and apologetic. “We have to go to Siberia,” he stated simply. “We can’t let that doctor get to them. If he did, it could mean more trouble and pain for us all.”

Bucky nodded in agreement.

“We called a few people, called in some favors, and we have a small team to go with us. We’ll all be flying out from the Leipzig/Halle airport tomorrow morning by helicopter.”

“I’m coming with you,” you said stubbornly.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky said, his face certain and unwavering. “I’m not putting you in that situation. Not when we can avoid it.” He looked up at the man crouched across from you. “Steve?”

“We’ve already taken care of that. We bought her a plane ticket. One-way trip to anywhere in the world. You’ve just gotta tell us where,” Steve said.

“Bulgaria,” Bucky responded immediately. He turned to gaze at your face. “You’re going to my safe house in Bulgaria.”

“But—” you started to protest. 

“No ‘buts,’” he said cutting you off. “I’m not putting you at risk like that. We’re going to Siberia, to face off against the other soldiers, and I can’t have you there and in danger. I won’t have you put yourself in danger like that, not when I know that I can do something this time to keep you safe.” His eyes turned pleading as sadness and desperation clouded his features. “Please, do this for me so I know you’ll be safe.”

You wanted to tell him no, that the safest spot for you was right by his side, but that look in his eyes made you falter. You’d never seen him like this, and it made you feel helpless. The more you thought about it, you would probably only just get in his way. If he was worrying about you he’d be distracted and that distraction could get him more hurt than he would normally. So slowly, you nodded your head. “Alright. I will.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders losing the little bit of tension that had accumulated over the past few minutes. “Thank you,” he said with a small smile.

You nodded begrudgingly. “Mhmm. You owe me big for this one, Barnes.”

He chuckled and leaned in, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose. “We’ll work that out later.”

Sam wretched as he walked out from the other room. “Blegh. You two are so cute it’s disgusting.” He rolled his eyes and turned to Steve. “Y’all get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

Steve nodded. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve all been through a lot, so we need to rest. We’ve got another long day ahead of us, and I’m going to need you both at the top of your game tomorrow. Sam, wake me up in a few hours and I’ll take the next shift.”

Sam nodded and walked out of the main room to go patrol the outside.

Once he was gone, Steve turned to you. “You two can take the mattress. You know the one, (y/n)?” At your nod, he nodded back in response. “Good. You two take that, I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“Thank you, Steve,” you said with a smile.

He bobbed his head at you and strayed over to a corner at the far side from the mattress.

“Come on, Buck,” you said as you rose to your feet and pulled him along right after you.

Once you were both standing, you led him over to the mattress you had woken up on. It looked just barely big enough to hold the both of you, but you’d manage.

He laid down first, reclining on the tattered mattress and using his metal arm as a prop for his head.

You joined him shortly after, laying down on his right and curling up into his side. You pressed as much of your body as you could against him, using his body heat to keep yourself warm.

His arm automatically wrapped itself around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him so you were half laying on top of him. And despite the awkwardness of the position, he seemed to be quite comfortable like that.

You were pretty comfortable too. With your head resting on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing, your arm draped across his stomach, and his hand tracing small patterns on your shoulder, you felt as content as could be.

Bucky took a deep breath as he tilted his chin down to look at you. “(y/n)?”

You looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Whatever happens to me tomorrow, if something bad happens to me and I can’t come for you, I want you to go back home to Bucharest. You have a good life there, good friends, a family of sorts. I don’t want you to lose that because of me.” He moved his hand up from your shoulders to your face, craddling your cheek in the worn skin of his palm.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as you inhaled in content. The smell of old books and coffee mixed with gunpowder filled your nostrils, enveloping you in his comforting scent.

“I want you to live, even if it’s not with me,” he continued. “Promise me that, if anything were to happen to me, you would carry on. Promise me you’ll meet somebody and fall in love all over again, get married and start that family you wanted. Will you do that for me?”

You opened your eyes and stared up at him. “I won’t have to,” you replied. “I won’t have to because you’re going to come back to me, and then we’ll finally be able to finish that pie we were so rudely interrupted in making.”

His chest vibrated with silent laughter. “All this chaos, confusion, and angst, and all you can think about is that stupid pie,” he said shaking his head with a lopsided grin. “You really are something, (y/n).”

You smirked. “Well isn’t that the reason you’re dating me?”

He leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. “I suppose it is.”

You hummed in content as he settled back down, and together the two of you fell asleep in each other’s embraces, soaking up all of the other that you could because you knew somewhere deep down that this would be your last peaceful sleep in each other’s arms for a long time.


	15. Chapter 15

The next day, as you sat in the backseat of a small, dark blue Volkswagen Beetle, you couldn’t help but ask yourself, “Why me?”

You were squeezed into the backseat that was too small for you and Bucky to share. Granted, you were small enough that you could’ve fit with almost anyone, but these seating arrangements were just flat out ridiculous and you found yourself glaring at the back of Sam’s head. He seemed to have something against Bucky and put his seat as far back as it would go just to annoy the super soldier. What sort of personal vendetta he had against your boyfriend, you didn’t know, but you too were suffering because of it.

Due to Bucky’s unfortunate car sickness, he had to sit on the passenger’s side of the car right behind Sam so it wasn’t like he had a choice on where he could sit. And even if he did, Steve’s chair was pushed back nearly as far to accommodate for the man’s sheer size and comfort while he drove to the airport.

These factors in combination with the fact that Steve just _had_ to rent the smallest car he could possibly find made for a very uncomfortable trip for you. You were crammed in the backseat, with hardly any leg room, courtesy of Steve’s chair, or side room, courtesy of Bucky’s ginormous figure. You shifted uncomfortably in the chair, trying to get into a position that would provide the most space.

“You okay?” Bucky asked quietly as he looked over at you, noticing your squirming.

Your nose scrunched up. “I’m fine, but this car was not built to hold three very large men,” you groaned as you fell against his shoulder with a pout.

He smiled softly and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry doll. But don’t worry, we’re almost at the airport and then you’ll be free of us.”

Like that was any consolation. You didn’t want to leave Bucky, but Steve had bought you that stupid plane ticket and none of the men would take “I’m coming with you” as an answer.

“You know the plan, right?”

Ah, the plan. The one that he had been going over with you every five minutes since you had woken up.

You nodded. “Yes. I say I’d like to redeem my voucher for a trip to Bulgaria. I would like to fly into their Ruse Airport. Once I land, I use the debit card you gave me to rent a car and take it to the location of the safe house which you have already planted into a GPS which is in my backpack. The code to get in is 56898. I then stay there, alone, without you, until you or someone else comes to get me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And if it’s not me, Steve, or Sam, what’s the key phrase they’re supposed to say to let you know that they’re there on my orders and not for any other reason.”

You had to fight the smile that was tugging at your lips. “They’re supposed to say ‘I’m here to get plums for Bucky.’” You pursed your lips and tilted your head to the side. “Though why we’re referring to me as ‘plums,’ I’m still not sure of.”

“The pies,” he said with a soft smile. “You and your plum pies will be coming back to me, and so they will be there to get the plums.”

“Mhmm. I knew it. You don’t want me. You just want my baking,” you teased with a grin.

He shrugged. “In my defense, you are a mean baker. If you ever decide you want out of coding you ought to open up your own shop.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” you promised as Steve rounded the corner into the airport’s drop off section. 

He slowed to a stop almost as far as he could possibly be from the doors and security cameras. As he put the car into park, he turned to peer at the two of you over his seat. “We’re here. Make your goodbyes quick. We’re meeting Sharon here in a little bit.”

You hesitated for a moment before opening up your door and climbing out of the car.

Bucky followed suit as he walked behind the car to open up the trunk.

You joined him at the back as the door swung open. “So this is it, huh?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“I’m afraid it is, (y/n).” He didn’t look at you as he reached into the trunk with his gloved hand and pulled out a small backpack you had just bought on your way to the airport. “Here…” he said holding it out to you. “It has everything you might need in it. A spare change of all the clothes you could possibly want, travel toiletries, and I even threw in a few books and magazines,” he listed off. “The GPS is in the bottom. It won’t pop up as anything suspicious when it’s going through the x-ray machines, so you won’t have to worry about that. And as a just in case I also packed you some snacks for if you get hungry on the flight. I’m not sure how long it’ll be but

“Bucky,” you interrupted as you took the backpack from him and set it back down on the ground.

He stopped talking and looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours and turning sad. 

You took a step closer and reached up, pressing your hand against the skin of his cheek which was rough with the beginnings of a beard.

He leaned into your touch, his brilliant blue eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I know, Buck. I know. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” You dragged your thumb gently against his cheekbone. “I’m going to miss you,” you finally said after a while.

“I’m going to miss you too,” he said bringing his own hand up to cover yours. Oh how you wished you could just tear off the glove that was separating your skin from his.

“You be safe now, okay? You can’t afford to get hurt. You have to come back to me, you hear? Or I’ll have to resurrect you and bring you back to me myself,” you threatened with a smile. “And that won’t be a pretty sight.”

He chuckled. “Yes ma’am.” He looked at you and took a deep breath. “You be safe too, okay. Don’t talk to strangers or anyone suspicious, got it?”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Yes _dad_.”

He hummed. “I would’ve thought you’d use ‘gramps.’”

Scrunching your nose, you shook your head. “Nah. It’d be weird if I was dating a grandpa.”

“And it’s not weird that you’re dating a ‘dad?’“

“ _Less_ weird,” you corrected with a sly grin. 

“Mhmm, sure.” He smiled softly and turned his head so his lips were covered by your hand and he pressed a gentle kiss against your palm. “There, one for the road.”

“Do I get one for now?”

“Only if you want one,” he responded taking a small step closer.

“I do,” you said as you closed the distance between you and stood up on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips.

He met you halfway, lifting up his left hand up to the back of your neck and allowing it to tangle itself in your hair.

This kiss was rushed and feverish as he kissed you like he never would again. You had a feeling that he felt he needed to try and squeeze as much love and adoration into this one kiss as he could because he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d be able to kiss you would be. It could be tomorrow, it could be next week, it could be next month, neither of you were sure. And so, you put everything you had into this kiss. 

You put all that you felt into this kiss. In the single moment, you tried to convey just how deeply you cared for him: all the love, joy, security, and compassion you felt for him; all the fear, anxiety, and worry you felt for his safety; all the need and desperation you had for him to come back to you.

His arms wrapped themselves securely around your waist as he pulled you closer into his chest. He needed this kiss just as much as you did, and you felt it in the way his lips practically attacked yours.

Eventually the two of you had to break for air. When you did, you rested your forehead against his, panting slightly. “I love you,” you breathed out, your voice hitching with the words. “I love you so much. Come back to me.”

“I will,” he vowed, his breath tickling your lips. “I love you too, so, one way or another, I _will_ come back to you.”

You took your bottom lip in between your teeth as you nodded. “Good. Don’t make me wait long.”

He cracked a small smile. “I won’t doll.” He was the one to finally pull away first. As he unraveled his arms from your body, he reached back into the trunk for your discarded back. “Here,” he said in a hushed whisper. “Now, you should go. Wouldn’t want to miss your flight.”

You nodded absently as you took it and slung it over your shoulder. “Yeah… You’re right.” You took a deep breath and looked up. Everything you needed to say, you had already said. There was no need to be redundant. So, you gave him a brave smile and said, “I’ll see you later.” You turned away and began to walk down the sidewalk towards the airport’s entrance, trying your hardest not to look back. 

Yeah, that didn’t work.

As you reached the sliding glass doors, you paused in your steps and turned to look over your shoulder.

Bucky was still standing outside the car, his gaze fixed resolutely on you. When he saw you turn your head towards him, he lifted his hand up in a silent wave.

You waved back, using all of your willpower not to run right back to him, and walked into the airport.

—————-

After a two hour wait to get through security and onto your last minute flight which lasted two and a half hours and a confusing exchange at the car rental, you were finally sitting in the driver’s seat of a little grey Audi and setting up your GPS. It wasn’t rocket science to figure the thing out, but the damned little device was giving you so much trouble that you were ready to just chuck it out the window and guess.

As if it was reading your malicious and murderous thoughts, the GPS finally brought up its welcoming screen.

“Starting route to…” it said, rattling off some address that was said too quickly and was too garbled for you to make any sense of. “At the next stop light, turn right,” ordered the robotic voice.

You groaned as you put the car into drive and started to follow the directions. The GPS’s voice was highly irksome and you had a feeling that, if you hadn’t killed it already, the device would be going straight into the trash when you got to the safe house.

The course took you through the city where the most reckless of drivers resided. You could’ve sworn that they were purposely trying to crash into you. You were very thankful when the path deviated from the busy roads and your surrounding began to turn more mountainous and rural.

Deep into the countryside you drove, leaving behind civilization. Just how out of the way was this place?

Finally, as night began to fall, the GPS had you turn onto a dirt road that led you to a small cabin.

You slowed to a stop as the GPS announced your arrival and, after sticking the car into park, you climbed out and hoisted your bag onto your shoulder. Taking a quick glance around, you never would’ve suspected that there was anything special about this place.

It was a fairly large cabin made of dark wood and with a raised covered porch. The front patio lights were on, casting a faint glow against the clear night. It was eerily silent out there, the only noise coming from the crickets and wildlife in the woods around you.

You carried your bag up the steps to the covered porch and front door. You glanced down at the doorknob. It had one of those fancy code locks that you used at your work. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly pressed the code Bucky had given you into the lock. 

It whirred in response, sliding the deadbolt lock back and allowing you access. 

You bit your lip as you turned the knob and entered the cabin, not exactly sure what you were expecting. You flicked on the small light switch and your jaw slackened at the sight of the interior.

This was definitely not what you had been expecting.

The cabin was warm and rustic. It’s open concept allowed you a full view of the main part of the cabin including the living room, dining room, and full kitchen. The living room consisted of a large, plush leather couch with a woven blanket draped across the backrests, a small, mahogany coffee table, a tan Lay-Z-Boy rocking armchair that looked so comfortable, and a large flat-screen TV that was sitting on top of a TV stand. A large rug sat in the middle of the small room, covering a good portion of the wooden floor. The kitchen was elaborate to say the least. Its black appliances shone in the light coming from the fixtures overhead. The marble counter tops glimmered, their spotless surfaces beckoning you to make a meal on them. 

Jutting off from the main room was a small hallway with a single oak door at its end. You figured it must be the bedroom.

You entered the room, kicking the door shut quietly behind you. The lock clicked back into place automatically, securing the entrance and barring it from intruders. Taking a deep breath, you carried your bag to the door at the end of the hallways. You pushed it open and smiled softly. It was a bedroom like you had thought. 

There was a bed centered on one of the walls. It was quite large and cozy looking, with multiple quilts layered on top of the bed. You wouldn’t have to worry about getting cold at night.

The plush carpet squished in between your toes as you walked further into the room. You set your bag down and smiled softly.

It seemed that Bucky’s safe house seemed just like any normal house. There wasn’t really any difference at all. 

That assumption was soon proven wrong.

You needed to get out of your clothes, take a shower, and get into some new clothes. You walked over to the closet embedded in the wall and slid it open. However, instead of being met with a rack of clothing, you were met with the sight of dozens of guns and ammunition magazines mounted on the wall. He had a whole mini armory in there. You gulped at the sight of all the weapons. Why did he need so many guns? You weren’t sure you even wanted to know the reasons. So, instead of taking into account that inventory, you shut the closet and vowed to pretend like it wasn’t there.

You found the clothes in a dresser against the far wall from the bed. Opening the drawers, you were relieved to find that they were filled with actual clothes instead of weapons, though you had no doubt that if you dug into them deep enough you’d probably find a small knife or gun.

You carefully picked up one of the neatly folded shirts and lifted it up to your nose to test its scent. You were happy to find that it did smell like Bucky: old books, coffee, and gunpowder. The smell almost made you weak in the knees as some of the stress from the last twenty-four hours began to catch up with you.

You stumbled back away from the dresser, clutching the shirt to your chest as you fell back against the bed. You squeezed your eyes shut as you sank into the mattress, trying desperately to keep the sudden wave of tears at bay.

Why were you suddenly feeling like this? You winced as an invisible hand clenched at your heart. Was it the daunting idea of being alone? Was it the knowledge that Bucky was out there risking his life and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it? Judging by the way sharp stabs of pain pierced your heart at the very thought of it, that had to be the reason.

All you wanted at that moment was to be in Bucky’s arms with him reassuring you that everything would be okay. Why did he have to go? Why couldn’t the two of you just run to some remote island or country and spent your life there? You missed him. You missed him more than you had ever missed anyone. And that was saying a lot.

You let your head fall back as you tried to steady your breathing, and after a few moments you deemed yourself calm enough to get up and go.

You shakily rose to your feet and walked back over to the dresser. Opening one of the lower drawers, you found rows of ratty and worn t-shirts and sweatpants. You pulled out one of each and dug into your backpack to retrieve a fresh set of underwear. You were comfortable wearing Bucky’s clothes, but you weren’t quite ready for _that_ step yet.

You carried your change of clothes over to the attached bathroom and entered, shutting the door behind you. You reached into the walk-in shower and turned the nozzle. Immediately a warm spray of water shot from the shower-head, filling the small bathroom with steam. You quickly stripped out of your dirty clothes and threw them into a small heap in the corner of the room. After testing the water to make sure it was just the right temperature, you stepped in.

The warm water instantly washed over your skin, relaxing your tense muscles and causing you to exhale with relief. It felt nice to be under the water, allowing it to wash away the worries and anxiety from the day along with the dirty feeling of travel from your skin. 

You quickly got to work washing your hair and scrubbing your body clean, taking your time to ensure maximum cleanliness.

You stayed in the water up until the point where your fingers started to prune. Only then did you say you’d probably had enough and decided to turn off the water. You gingery climbed out of the warm, steamy enclosure and grabbed one of the towels that was hanging from the towel rack. You quickly wrapped it around your body and stepped in front of the mirror. You wiped the fog away from the surface and stared at your reflection.

You looked dead tired. There were dark circles and bags under your eyes and a few pimples developing along your cheeks. You chalked those up to stress but you stared at your eyes. Had all the stress and anxiety from the last couple days really made you look this tired? No wonder Bucky was worrying about you.

But then your eyes were drawn away from your face as they noticed discoloration on your neck. Your stomach dropped. Angry, purple, finger-shaped bruises had formed on the skin. How you hadn’t noticed them before you weren’t sure, but you assumed it had something to do with the vast amounts of pain killers you had been taking at Bucky’s insisting and the thick layers of flesh colored make-up the boys had helped you apply that morning. You knew you had been bruised from Bucky’s episode, but you never would’ve imagined that it was this bad.

You stared at the markings for a few moments more before tearing your eyes away from your reflection. You wouldn’t blame Bucky for this. It wasn’t his fault.

You finished patting your body dry with the fluffy towel and pulled on your clothing. Being wrapped in Bucky’s shirt and pants felt slightly comforting. It was almost like a part of him was there with you. 

After finishing your nightly routine, you exited the bathroom, flicking off the light behind you and dove into the large bed.

You had been right. It was really warm in there under all the heavy quilts. Their weight instantly triggered the tired feeling in your brain, causing your eyes to droop with exhaustion. You quickly found yourself falling asleep, not being able to help your thoughts that were saying, “This is nice, but it’d be better if Bucky were here.”

———————-

For days you stayed in the cabin. For days you went on with nothing. No word, no letters, no texts or anything from Bucky indicating that he was alright or alive or safe, and to be honest, it scared you. What if something bad had happened? What if he had gotten really hurt fighting against the other Winter Soldiers or worse, killed? You couldn’t even think about it; the idea chilled you to the very bone.

To keep your mind off things, you did simple tasks around the cabin. You’d cook time consuming meals in order to keep yourself busy for an hour or two and browse the TV channels available. You didn’t dare log into your Netflix account for fear that the government would pick up on it and hunt you down (granted you were probably just being paranoid but Bucky had rubbed off on you in more ways than one). Thankfully, a few channels broadcasted American TV so you were able to watch some of your shows. That would keep you occupied for about two hours before your mind would start to stray back to Bucky and all the terrifying scenarios your brain could come up with and force you to move onto the next activity.

It was in the evening of the third day of your stay when there was finally some outside disturbance in the atmosphere.

At first you weren’t sure you were hearing correctly when you heard the quiet tapping on the door.

You had been sitting on the couch, bundled up in one of Bucky’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants, binging _The Big Bang Theory_ which was marathoning on the American TV channel when you heard it: the faint tapping on wood. You paused your show and sat up straighter, going absolutely silent to strain your ears should the noise make its appearance again. 

You heard the knock again, louder and more desperate this time, and instantly stood up from your spot on the cushions and ran to the door. Bucky had come for you. You could’ve cried in relief. But when you flung the door open, it wasn’t Bucky standing on the porch like you had hoped.

It was a man with dark skin flanked by two women. He was in a traditional all black suit, a small necklace that looked to be made of silver fangs around his neck. Where he was regal and professional, the women standing at his sides were downright intimidating. Their red armor accented their threatening looks and the spears they carried at their sides looked like they could do some serious damage.

You stared wide-eyed at the man standing in front of you, recognizing him from your short time in Berlin.

He cleared his throat. “Miss (y/n). I am T’Challa, king of Wakanda. We met briefly in Berlin,” he introduced himself.

You nodded silently. How did he know you were here? Wasn’t he the one that had tried to kill Bucky just a few days ago? What was going on?

The king smiled sympathetically at your terrified form. “I apologize for my studded appearance, but I’m afraid I’m here on urgent matters. Sergeant Barnes mentioned something about ‘getting plums for Bucky?’”

Your stomach did a flip. Bucky had sent this man to come and get you, but why couldn’t he come himself? “I-Is he alright?” you asked desperately. “Please tell me he’s okay.”

T’Challa held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “He is alive and unharmed, yes. But he is about to undergo…” He trailed off and frowned. “I should probably allow him to tell you for himself. Please come with us and we will take you to him.”

You didn’t have to be asked twice as you allowed yourself to be escorted to a high tech jet that was waiting in the small clearing outside the cabin.

As the aircraft took off, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that there was more that was about to happen than what the king was letting onto. You weren’t sure what was about to happen so all you could do was pray to whatever higher being there was that Bucky was alright.


	16. Chapter 16

Your heart was pounding as, several hours later, the Wakandan’s jet was touching down right outside the palace. You’d been so nervous the entire flight, your mind running rampant with various scenarios and explanations as to why Bucky hadn’t come to get you himself, why he was here, and why T’Challa had started saying that Bucky was about to undergo something. 

Him being hurt and going through with a surgery was the only reasonable explanation you could come up with. That had to be it. What else could it be?

But then that led you to a whole new set of questions that needed answers. How did he get hurt? How badly was he hurt? Did T’Challa lie to you when he said that Bucky was unharmed?

You folded in on yourself, resting your forehead against your clenched fists on your knees. “Please, be okay Bucky…”

“Miss (l/n), we have arrived,” one of the flight technicians called over at you.

You looked up, your eyes blinking rapidly as you registered the figure of T’Challa standing in front of you holding his hand out.

“Come with me. I will take you to him,” he said kindly.

You reached up with a shaky hand and took his. You stood up with his help and followed him down the ramp of the jet. Your eyes were immediately assaulted with sunlight and you lifted your hand to block the blinding glare.

T’Challa gave a small laugh. “Fear not, we will be inside soon enough.” He continued to walk up to the palace and, once he got there, he pulled open a side door. “This way to the medical bay.”

You followed without hesitation as he led you through a bunch of twists and turns in the intricate floor plan of the palace when, finally, he stopped at the opening of a large white room.

Doctors and nurses bustled about the room, carrying supplies and machines you didn’t recognize around the room. They seemed to be prepping, but prepping for what, you didn’t know. Their main focus seemed to be on a large, glass tube that was standing alone near the edge of the room and on a small medical bed whose occupant was blocked by the broad shoulders of a certain blonde super soldier.

Steve had his arms crossed. “You sure about this?” he asked, his question directed towards the occupant of the bed.

“I can’t trust my own mind,” a new and _painfully_ familiar voice answered. “So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing… for everybody.”

Your breath hitched as you stopped dead in your tracks. “Bucky…” you whispered.

Steve’s body swung out at the sound of your voice, giving you a clear view of Bucky.

You felt your stomach drop.

He looked relatively fine, save for a few scratches and bruises on his face and the large gap where his arm was supposed to be. He was dressed in a stark white tank-top and sweatpants and had a solid black cuff sitting on the base of his metal shoulder. He looked exhausted and was in desperate need of a shave, but somehow he still managed to look as handsome as ever. 

His eyes connected with yours as you said his name, and immediately his face grew solemn and apologetic. “Steve? Can you…?” he asked looking up at his friend.

Steve shot a glance between you and Bucky before nodding. “I’ll be back in a bit, Buck.” At Bucky’s acknowledgement, Steve walked towards you, paused briefly at your side, and then promptly left the medical bay leaving you and Bucky alone in the company of the doctors.

Bucky shifted in his seat as he looked at you anxiously. “(y/n)… I can explai—”

He didn’t even get a chance to finish that sentence because within the next few seconds you were across the room and crashing into him, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I-I thought you were hurt o-or worse! Don’t you ever d-dare do that to me again!” you wailed as you buried your face into his right shoulder.

His arm was around your torso in seconds, holding you as close to him as he could manage. “Hey,” he cooed gently into your ear. “It’s okay. I’m here now. Bucky’s here.”

That didn’t calm your crying. “I-I was so scared that s-something happened to you Bucky! Wh-When you didn’t come and T-T’Challa said you were about to undergo something, I-I thought you had gotten hurt and needed to go into surgery but you look fine and…” You looked up at him, teary-eyed. “Bucky, what’s going on?”

He licked his dried out lips as his brows furrowed. “I… Doll, you should probably sit down for this.” He scooted over on the medical bed and pulled you over to his side.

You complied and sat down next to him, sniffling and trying to get your crying under control.

He waited until you were somewhat calmer before he moved. He reached over and rested his hand on your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the stray tears making their way out of your eyes. “Before I tell you, I need you to smile for me, doll. Can you do that for me?”

You barked a very wet laugh. “You want me to smile?” you asked, your lips twitching upwards.

He nodded. “I need to see a smile before I tell you what’s going to happen because I need to know you’re going to be okay.”

You managed your best smile. “Good enough?”

He breathed a laugh. “Sure.” He let his hand stay on your cheek as his small smile melted away. “I have to go away for awhile,” he said slowly. “I-I’m not safe. The Winter Soldier, the words, everything that HYDRA put into me is still there. I can’t trust that they or someone else will use it against me and make me hurt you or anyone else I care about. I just can’t risk it, (y/n). So…” He swallowed thickly and looked up at the men and women bustling about the medical bay. “The Wakandans have offered to help me. Their medicine has advanced farther than anyone else’s and they think they can figure out a way to cure me. But until then…” He bent his head down and glanced sideways at the large glass tube.

You too turned your gaze towards it and you felt your stomach plummet. “Bucky…”

“They’re going to put me to sleep, doll. I’m going on the ice again,” he confirmed.

You couldn’t be hearing him correctly. There was no way those words were coming out of his mouth right now. “Bucky, no,” you whispered. “No no no no please tell me you’re pulling my leg here,” you said shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be. I can’t let myself put you in danger. Not again.” He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. “(y/n), these people can help me so I can never be used as a weapon again. So I will never act against my will again. So I can just be Bucky.” He moved his hand to under your chin to draw your gaze to him. “I have to do this, doll. For you, for me, so that we can have a chance at a normal future where we don’t have to worry about people using the soldier against us.”

You were already starting to cry again, the teardrops sticking to your lashes and clouding your vision despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. Your heart was racing in your chest as you thought about it: he was going back under for lord knew how long. 

His expression shifted to concern as he watched the tears trail down your cheeks. “Oh doll,” he muttered as he took his hand from your face and wrapped it around your torso pulling you into his body with as tight a hug as his single arm would let him. 

You cried into his chest, hugging him just as tightly as he was hugging you, if not tighter, as you mourned and lamented over what you were about to lose. You were about to lose him—not for good, you knew that much, but for long enough that it would hurt. You hugged him like you would never get the chance to again because you weren’t sure when you would have this, Bucky here right in your arms, again.

He seemed to be holding onto you in the same manner, his hand trailing itself all over your back as if it was trying to memorize the feeling of your figure under his skin. 

You both stayed silent for a few moments, dwelling on the situation at hand.

Finally, you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. “I know you have to, Bucky. I know you do, but I’m just going to miss you.”

“I know you are, (y/n). But it’s not forever. They said they’ll wake me up when they figure out a way to fix me and then we can be together. We can do whatever you want to do, go wherever you want to go, and nothing will stop us.”

You smiled softly. “I can’t wait…”

“Me neither…” He sighed as he looked around the room. “They’ll be putting me to sleep soon,” he said quietly.

“I know… but until then, let’s just sit here,” you said settling into his side. “I just want to spend these last few moments with you.

He nodded. “Okay.”

You sat there in a content silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his hand clasped tightly between yours. It wasn’t until someone spoke that your small little bubble was burst.

“Sergeant Barnes?” called a voice from your side.

You both looked up only to see the head doctor standing there, waiting patiently.

“We are ready for you,” she said, a small, sad smile on her face. 

“Thank you,” he said mirroring her solemn smile. 

She nodded and turned back to the cyro chamber, prepping it to hold a body.

Bucky swallowed thickly and stood up, turning to face you. “Well, I guess this it then.”

You forced a laugh. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

He took a deep breath. “I should probably call Steve in,” he said, shifting his weight. “I told him I’d tell him goodbye before… you know.”

You nodded. “I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

Bucky looked up at one of the attendants. “Can you bring my friend back in please?” he requested.

He nodded and left the room.

Seconds later he returned with Steve bounding in on his heels.

The super soldier quickly found himself at yours and Bucky’s sides. His gaze was bittersweet as he stared at his friend. “You’re going to be alright, Buck.”

“I know, Stevie. I just have to go to sleep for awhile.” Bucky smiled and rested his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back, okay?”

Steve chuckled. “I can’t make you any promises.”

Bucky grinned. “I know. Just don’t get yourself or anyone else killed.”

“Now that I can promise.” Steve smirked and pulled Bucky in for a quick hug. “I’ll see you when you get up, bud.”

Bucky nodded as he slid out of Steve’s grasp. It was your turn.

You quickly pulled Bucky by the arm into your embrace.

He hugged you back. “You be careful while I’m gone. Okay?”

You nodded. “I will.” You pulled back from his chest and held him at arm’s length. “Have sweet dreams for me, ‘kay?” you asked, managing your best and kindest smile.

He chuckled. “So long as you’re in them, they’re guaranteed to be.” The smile lingered on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “I love you.”

You hummed. “I love you too. Sleep well, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He smiled softly. “I’ll be waiting.” At that moment, he pulled away from your grasp and made his way over to the tube. With the doctor’s direction, he carefully climbed into the pod and settled himself in.

The doctor secured the strap over his legs before locking the one around his torso into place in order to keep Bucky from moving in his sleep.

Bucky shifted in the meager restraints to get comfortable and turned his gaze up to you.

His eyes spoke volumes, but his lips didn’t move; he had already told you everything he needed to, now it was just a matter of waiting for that final step.

The technician pressed a few buttons on his computer and slowly the glass casing of the tube began to slide up.

Bucky’s eyes locked with yours as the tube slowly rose above his body and he smiled at you a comforting, soft smile as if to tell you that it was going to be okay. Just as the tube was getting ready to seal itself, his lips quickly moved, forming silent words, “I love you,” and then it shut. He rested his head back against the padding and closed his eyes. Seconds later a quiet “shhh” sound filled the room as the tube frosted over from the inside, putting Bucky to sleep and keeping him in suspended animation.

You took a shuddering breath as he stilled, trying hard to ignore how the unnatural stiffness looked almost liked death. After the deed was done, you turned your back on the tube and walked to the little area just outside the bay.

Steve followed you, apparently needing some air too and the two of you stood there, staring absentmindedly out the wall of windows in the small space at Wakanda’s cities. You were both grieving in your own ways. He was grieving the loss of his best friend. You were grieving the loss of your love. And damn did it hurt. You knew he wasn’t dead, and some rational part of you was screaming that he’d come back, but that didn’t ease the very real pain that was burrowing itself in your heart.

You were joined a few moments later by T’Challa who opted to stand on the other side of Steve.

Without glancing to the side, Steve took a deep breath. “Thank you for this,” he said, sincere gratitude heavy in his voice.

T'Challa smiled slightly and nodded his head. “Your friend and my father, they were both victims. If I can help one of them find peace…” he trailed off, not finishing the thought, but you got the gist. He wanted to help Bucky, and for that you would be eternally grateful.

Steve finally turned to him. “You know, If they find out he’s here… they’ll come for him,” he warned.

T'Challa smirked. “Let them try.”

You couldn’t hide your satisfied grin at that. Because, despite Bucky staying here, you knew that the Wakandans would protect him. And that made you happy.

You glanced back at his pod where he lay asleep and frozen as the doctors began to clear up the area. He was safe, that was all you could ask for.

“(y/n)…” T’Challa addressed you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?” Your head turned back to him.

Steve had taken his leave some time ago, leaving you and the Wakandan prince alone together. His eyes were kind and sympathetic as he looked at you. “I understand that you and Sergeant Barnes are closely involved. Is that correct?”

You nodded, not exactly sure where he was going with this. 

“I thought so.” He pressed his lips together, letting them form a thin line on his face. “I know how hard it can be to be without and away from a loved one, and I would not wish that pain on anyone. If you so choose to, there is a place here in Wakanda for you to stay close to Sergeant Barnes.”

You blanched. Oh god, could you stay? Could you really stay so close to him? But what about Romania? What about Nicole? She was about to have her baby and you knew that Andrei was out dealing with the whole Vienna/Winter Soldier thing. Could you leave her on her own?

As if by magic, you could picture her face when you told her that you gave up staying with Bucky to be with her.

 _“_ Are you out of your ever loving mind?” she’d demand, hands on her hips and her best “mom-face” plastered on her features. “You get back there right now and wait for your man. I am a grown woman and I can take care of myself and my own children.”

The very thought made you want to giggle, but you were too focused on the offer at hand to laugh at what your friend would say.

You bit your lip gently and looked at T’Challa. “Are you sure it will be no trouble?” you asked cautiously. “I don’t want to intrude.” The last thing you wanted to do was be a burden on these people who had already done so much for you already.

He smiled. “I am positive. You deserve a rest after the past few days. Please, allow us to give you some comfort.”

The offer was so tempting and too good to be true. But here it was, a prince offering to let you stay in his palace while your boyfriend got better. How could you say no?

Slowly you nodded your head. “Then, if you’re positive it’ll be alright, I guess I’ll stay. But, um… I’m going to need a few things from my apartment back home; clothes, toiletries, stuff like that and I’d need to let my friend know where I am so she’s not worrying over me.”

He smiled at you, satisfaction taking over his face. “Of course. If you can write up a list of necessities, we will send some attendants to retrieve your things over night. Until then, will you allow me to show you to your room?”

You nodded again. “Y-Yeah. That’d be nice. Thank you, your majesty.”

He shook his head and held up his hands. “There is no need for that. T’Challa will be fine.”

“T’Challa,” you repeated, testing the name out. “Alright.”

He smiled with satisfaction. “Come this way.” He turned on his heel and began to walk down the hall and away from the medical bay. 

You followed after him, not daring to look back because if you did, you knew you’d break down into tears.

He led you up a few levels in the palace to a comfortable looking hallway. “This will be your suite until you decide you don’t need it anymore,” he said stopping in front of two double doors. He settled his hand on the door handle and opened the door.

Your jaw dropped.

The suite was huge. It looked like a large studio apartment. A decent sized kitchen and small dining room was covering the area to your left. To your right, a large king sized bed adorned with royal purple covers was perched against a wall made of windows. Against the wide wall was a large armoire and a fully stocked desk with pads of paper and jars of writing utensils sitting on the surface. 

You walked slowly into the room and spun around. “Oh my God. T’Challa, this is too much.”

“Oh nonsense,” he said humbly. “We provide only the best for our guests. Especially the guests who will be staying with us long term.”

You nodded. “Well, I can’t thank you enough for this. How can I ever repay you?”

He smirked slightly and tilted his chin up. “I hear you are a woman of technology and codes. You can thank me by speaking with my little sister. She too is fond of technology and will appreciate a friend to talk to.”

So you get to stay here for free and explore Wakandan technology with their princess? This was too good to be true. You beamed up at him. “I would be honored.”

“Then it is settled.” He smiled and made his way back to the door. “I shall leave you now to get comfortable and assemble your list. Please, feel free to give it to me at dinner and I will pass it on to those who will go retrieve your things.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He only nodded in response before backing out of the room and shutting the doors behind him.

You let out a breath you had been holding without realizing and slowly made your way over to the desk. You pulled the chair out and sat, pulling paper and a pen closer to you.

First, you wrote a letter to Nicole explaining everything. You told her how Bucky was actually the Winter Soldier, a prior weapon for evil people against his will and how he had escaped and made his way to Romania only to become the James both of you knew and cared about, making sure to explicitly and repeatedly tell her that he was still a good person whose past didn’t matter. You weren’t worried though. You knew she and Andrei would base their judgement of him based on the Bucky they knew. Then you explained to her the current situation, how Bucky was in cyro sleep until the Wakandans could help fix his mind and how you were going to stay with him until further notice. 

“I’m sorry to leave you guys now,” you wrote, “but he needs me here for him right now. I can’t leave him. I’ll try not to be away for long, but only time will tell. Until then, I’ll be sure to call and Skype you when I can get my hands on a computer. I hope you all understand and I’ll see you when I can.”

You quickly signed off the letter and folded it up, setting it aside to be joined later by your list of essentials, and started a new list. You quickly wrote down some simple things—clothes, your toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush, a few books, your computer, and whatever else they thought was important—along with where they might find them so they didn’t have to search for long. You knew you were a little quirky with where you kept things so you figured you could give them some help.

You finished your scribbling and then leaned back in the desk chair. You let your head fall back with an exhausted sigh. So much was going through your mind right then, but you felt your brain would explode if you tried to process it all at that moment. So instead you let your mind fall free to wander where ever it wanted to.

Unsurprisingly, your thoughts turned to Bucky, creating a mental picture of the smile he had given you and the words he had mouthed right before he had gone to sleep. You imagined what it would be like to have him here with you, right in the moment. 

He’d be sitting on the bed, looking out at the city line, admiring all the technology he was being exposed to. He was always a little tech nerd. He would love this place if he got to properly experience it. 

You could picture it so clearly. You could see his excited, puppy dog look as he forced you out with him into the city, gushing over everything new and interesting.

The thought made you smile softly. Maybe when this whole thing was over, you could do that together. 

——————————-

You’d given T’Challa your list and letter that night at dinner, and the next morning, just as you were waking up, there was a soft knock on your door. 

“Miss (l/n),” called a feminine voice from the other side of the wood. “We have your things for you.”

You stumbled out of the warm and very comfortable bed towards the door to open it. You probably looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. You opened the door to let in your company.

Several women entered the suite, all of them carrying bags from your luggage set. You stood to the side as they brought in all the luggage, feeling slightly awkward at not offering your help but also not wanting to get in their way. If there was one thing you knew about the Wakandans, it was that they were very methodical and had their routines for everything. So, you just waited quietly by for them to finish stacking the bags in the middle of the floor so you could begin to unpack.

It wasn’t until the last woman set down her bag on top of their mini stack that you spoke up, a little more awake at the sight of an unfamiliar bag.

“Um, I don’t think that’s mine,” you said pointing at the black tactical backpack that was sitting there idly.

She looked up at you, her gaze unaffected. “It was sitting on your coffee table, Miss. It seemed important so we brought it with us. It had this sitting on top of it.” She pulled from her pocket a small folded piece of paper and offered it to you.

You took the paper cautiously. “Alright…”

The head of the group turned to you, her smile kind. “Will that be all, Miss, or is there anything else you need of us.”

You shook your head. “No, thank you.”

They all bowed their heads politely before exiting the suite.

You waited til they had gone before you pounced on the black tactical bag. It was notably heavy in your arms and you carried it over to the bed making you wonder just what the hell was in this bag. Oh you hoped there was nothing alive.

You plopped down on the bed and set the bag aside before taking the folded piece of paper out and unfolding it. You were met with sharp and concise handwriting.

_We retrieved this from the Barnes case and thought you might need it. Don’t worry, it’s not evidence. It’s yours. Enjoy.  
-Everett Ross_

In the Barnes case? Was this Bucky’s? 

You threw the note aside and quickly pulled the bag up to you. You quickly tore open the zipper and pulled the main pocket open to see what was inside.

It didn’t look like much at first. There was a set of spare clothes, a simple black, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans, bundled down at the bottom of the back and on top of them, several journal like books were piled in.

A small frown turned your lips down as you pulled out the first journal. It wasn’t the one you had given him, but it was filled to the brim. The pages were obviously used, all crinkled on the outside and stuffed full with little scraps of paper and what appeared to be pictures. On the cover, in the bottom right corner, a small number was printed: 2015, the year you and Bucky had met.

You slowly flipped it open and looked at the first page.

Bucky’s messy handwriting stared up at you from the paper in its dark ink.

Your eyes scanned the first line.

_I already filled the last journal, the one that (y/n) gave me, and it’s been less than a week. So, here we’re going to continue the present._

_I want to get these memories down first. These are the ones that have her in them, and I’ll be damned if I forget her._

Your breath hitched. These were continuations of Bucky’s memory journals. These were _private_. You shouldn’t be reading them, but at the same time, there was nothing more you wanted to read more. And so, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head saying “No, don’t do it,” you read on.

 _She’s interesting. She doesn’t see me to mind my presence much which I like. She’s not afraid of me. Just this morning she shot me a smile and lingered around to ask me how I was doing with my memory problem. I told her I was doing fine, which I am. Her idea was so helpful and I can’t thank her enough for this. Maybe I should bake_ her _a pie. Now all I have to do is figure out a recipe._

You chuckled a bit. You could pick out exactly where in time this was. Not days later he had brought you his mother’s cherry pie. The very thought brought a bright smile to your face and you flipped a couple pages ahead.

_I can’t believe this. I can’t even comprehend it. She’d gotten hurt because of me. Some HYDRA thug found her and tried to use her to find me. I don’t think I can ever forget the sight of him towering over her, that knife of his aimed at her face. Thank God I was passing by and stopped her from being hurt. I can’t even imagine what I’d do if I lost her. I couldn’t bare it. She’s the only thing keeping me grounded anymore. But now I have some hope. She told me she cared about me too, and I don’t know if she means what I think she does, but I can’t help but hope for it. This feeling is one of the very few real things I’ve had since I left D.C. I don’t want to lose it just yet._

You shuddered at the memory of your attack in the alley. You remember being so scared, but so relieved when Bucky had come to your rescue. You thought that maybe that was the moment when you realized you had underlying feelings for him. You skipped ahead again, this time landing on a spread that had folded pieces of paper wedged in between the pages. You pulled one out and opened it up.

_You look really pretty today, (y/n). Just thought you should know._

You pulled out the next one.

_The way you did your hair today was nice. You should do it like that again._

…And the next one.

_Thanks for the laugh today. I really needed it._

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat. It seemed that all these little pieces of paper in the pages were notes he had written to you. You’d thought that he’d stop writing them shortly after you started to see each other almost every day. The “You owe me a pie” note was the last one you could recall receiving. But here they were: a bunch of notes he had written, but had never given.

There were more notes in between other pages, all of whom held similar messages. You read through them all, each one making you smile fondly at his short but sweet sentiments. When you had finished each note, you promptly returned them to their original spot, mentally marking where each one was if you needed or wanted to revisit them. 

Each note made you happy; happy that he never stopped writing to you even after you began to see each other more frequently, happy that he thought about you, and happy that he noticed little things about you that you didn’t even notice about yourself.

Slowly but surely, you made your way through the entire journal, reading Bucky’s inner thoughts and looking through how he saw the world at the time. Some of the events he described, you recognized (your first date and your first kiss among other things) but some were completely new (like the fact that he had gotten a promotion in the moving company without telling you or the fact that he had to discreetly take out some of his prior handlers that had found him and stalked him for a while). But each event, while being new and interesting from his perspective, gave you a peak into his mind and, even though he wasn’t going to be around for a while, made you feel like you knew him just a little bit better. 

You flicked through the last few pages to the end where there was one more folded sheet resting between the pages and the back cover. You slowly pulled it out and looked it over.

The page was full of words and had a small photograph paper clipped into the top corner. The sight of it made your heart flutter.

The photo was of you and Bucky sometime in the third month of your dating. You were closer to the camera but you weren’t looking at it or holding the camera, making you realize that it was taken by an outside source, probably Nicole or Andrei. You both were sitting on your couch. You had your knees curled under your body and your eyes were squinted shut in a laugh; Bucky must have just told a joke or something. He had his eyes trained on your form, a large and amused smile on his face as he watched you laugh and the look in his eyes made you realize that Liza was right. He looked at you the way Andrei looked at Nicole.

Your eyes trailed from the photo to the page, and you realized that it was a letter. You slowly began to read it.

 _(y/n),_  
There’s so much about me that I can’t tell you. I’ve done real evil in my life. I’ve killed people, I’ve torn apart families, I’ve destroyed lives, and never once did I feel regret for it. But I want you to know that the man I was is not the man I am. The man I am now is different.  
The man I was was incapable of feeling anything or doing anything other than what he was told. He was a weapon, an asset at the disposal of monsters. But the man I am now is so much more. I’m a man who can feel and I feel s much about you. I love the way you smile at me, the way you laugh, the way you seem to brighten up any room you walk into. I love the way you make me feel. I love you.  
You are one of a kind, a person who has accepted me and all my faults without hesitation because you believed I was a good person. And I can never thank you enough for that, for seeing the person you made me want to be rather than the person I was. You made me who I am, and I love you for that.  
I don’t ever want to lose you, but some days I feel like you should go away where you’ll be safer and happier. You should find someone who will love you better than I can and give you a family, but you stay anyways and I love you for that.  
Know that I will do my best by you. This is my promise: I will love you and cherish you to the best of my ability. I will do my best to give you every happiness you deserve. I will do all in my ability to keep you safe for as long as I live. Know that I will do all these things and more because that is what I can offer you.  
Know that I love you, even if I don’t say it that often or at all. Words have never been my strongest suit, and even as I write this, I find it difficult to properly convey how I’m feeling. But I hope that, if you ever read this, you understand just how much I love you. Because I do. I love you, (y/n), and I don’t think I can ever stop.  
With all my love,  
Your Bucky

By the time you had finished reading his letter to you, you were crying freely. clutched his written words to your chest.

You couldn’t believe that he had kept this only to himself. When he got out of the ice you were so going to have a conversation with him about this.

The thought brought a small smile to his face. _When_ he got out. You didn’t know when that would be—it could be days, weeks, months, or even years—but you knew it was going to happen. You knew they would wake him up when they developed the medicine to help repair his mind and they’d help him. And you’d be there for him, to support him and help him yourself. And then, when it was all said and done, you two could be together, living as normally as you could.

You carefully set the paper back down onto the bag and turned away from all the journals. Your gaze set itself on the city’s skyline, right at the point where the sun was peeking out over the skyscrapers on the horizon. The blinding light slowly cascaded down, illuminating the room.

You squinted as it reached your eyes, giving a small smile in response to its silent greeting.

Everything would end up alright, you just knew it.


	17. Chapter 17

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Look at how big she’s gotten.”

Nicole’s smiled at you from the computer screen and lifted up her newborn. “I know, right? Jamie’s huge for three months.” She smiled and turned to cradle her daughter in her arms. “You’re a big baby, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” she cooed.

Jamie babbled in her mother’s arms, eliciting a smile from you.

“I still can’t believe you named her Jamie,” you said shaking your head.

“Well, why not?” Nicole asked. “All the other kids are named after great people in our lives so why shouldn’t I name her after James?”

A soft smile crossed your lips. “I have no idea.”

She’d really taken the whole Bucky situation well; so much better than you had expected. You thought that, once she found out the truth, she’d be a little wary of him and not want to see him again for a while, but the exact opposite happened.

She seemed to revere him now as some sort of god of strength which, if you were being honest, amused the hell out of you. She was so amazed that he had dealt with all that shit in his past and still managed to be a good, kind, and gentle person. She wanted to honor him so much that she even went as far as naming her baby after him.

You knew Bucky would get a kick out of that one when he finally woke up.

As if reading your thoughts, Nicole’s expression turned a little solemn. “Is he awake yet?” she asked as she bit her lip gently.

You shook your head. “No. It’s been five months now. The doctor’s think they’re close to finishing the cure, but they aren’t certain enough to wake him up yet.” You pursed your lips together as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “They said they wouldn’t bring him back until they were absolutely certain.”

“How are you holding up?” she asked, shifting Jamie in her arms so the baby would be more comfortable. 

You shrugged and averted your gaze. “Same as always, I guess. Shuri’s keeping me busy. We’re working on some upgrades for the Black Panther suit. She wants to figure out how to get it to absorb kinetic energy and use it in its own attacks.”

“Ooh fancy!”

You nodded, your smile turning a little eager. “I know, right? I’m helping her with some of the technical parts of it. It’s surprisingly similar to coding so I’m actually useful to her.”

She snickered. “You were always useful, (y/n). And I’m glad you’re not moping around anymore. I was afraid I was going to have to fly out there and kick some sense into you myself.”

You felt your cheeks burn at the mention of your short depressed period. In the week or two following Bucky’s going under you were hardly motivated to get out of bed, much less leave the room. It’d hit you just a few hours after reading his letter and notes for the first time—the realization that he was actually gone, that is. It hit you like a freaking tidal wave. The Wakandans gave you your space, they were very understanding and you were grateful for that, but they always came in to check up on you at random. It was about halfway into week three that the princess came into visit you. She’d drawn you out of your room, had you get yourself cleaned up and situated, and then practically dragged you down to her lab to learn the ropes and help her out. If she hadn’t come to got you and get you busy, you probably wouldn’t be as awake and “alive” as you were now. “I wasn’t _that_ bad,” you muttered.

“Oh yes you were,” she affirmed. “You were so bad I thought you had just watched a puppy getting kicked. But I’m glad you’re up and about now.” Her smile melted slightly off her face. “Are you still going to see him?” she asked, her voice sympathetic and gentle.

You nodded. “Everyday. I think the doctors are getting tired of seeing me outside his pod.”

Nicole chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame them. You sit there for hours doing nothing.”

“That’s not true!” you said in mock offense. “I read while I’m there and binge Netflix. I do stuff.”

“Boring stuff.” She frowned. “Bucky would tell you to get a life rather than wait around for him.”

You tilted your head. “I know, but I’d still do it anyways. I miss his company.”

“I know you do, (y/n), but he’s not gone forever. Just you wait. I’ll bet those doctors will have a cure for him by next week.”

You chuckled. “You said that last week.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Yeah, well I’ll get it right one of these times.”

“I’m sure you will,” you said with a soft smile.

Nicole opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment Jamie decided to get fussy.

The girl began to squirm and cry in her mother’s arms, punching her tiny little fists into the air as she wailed.

Nicole quickly turned her attention away from you towards her child. “Oh, hey. Shh… Is it nap time now?”

You smirked at the screen. “I think it is. She’s saying, ‘Mommy! Mommy! Put me to sleep so I’m not tired in the middle of the night and can stay up all night long, crying and screaming so that you and Daddy don’t sleep at all.”

She grumbled under her breath. “Yeah, no joke.” She shifted Jamie in her arms. “Well, I think that this is my queue to go.”

You nodded. “Alright. I probably should too. Wouldn’t want to be late for my date with my sleeping boyfriend.”

“You’re a creep.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You smiled. “Tell Andrei and the kids I said hi and give them all big hugs for me.”

Nodding her head, she said, “I will. You take care now and visit soon, okay?”

“Okay. Talk to you later, Nic.” Your finger hovered over the “End Call” button.

“You too, (y/n).”

Your finger quickly tapped down on the button and the screen blacked out. You sat back in your chair and sighed.

You missed Nicole and her family, you really did, but your time here in Wakanda was far from being over. Bucky still wasn’t awake so you couldn’t leave, you wouldn’t leave. You’d promised him that you’d be there when he woke up and you weren’t about to break that promise.

You took a deep breath, closed your computer, and pushed yourself up. Standing, you began to collect some little things. You scooped up your laptop and a few books that were sitting on the desk and held them close to your chest. It was time for your daily stake out in front of Bucky’s cryo pod.

You carried your things out of the suite and down the halls that had become vividly familiar over the past few months. You’d walked this path dozens of times on your way to visit Bucky while he was asleep. 

You didn’t do much during these visits. You’d read, do some coding for whatever project you and Shuri were working on, and talk aimlessly as if he was listening. Sometimes you’d carry out full conversations with him and acted as if he could hear you and was responding. The doctors and lab technicians never commented on your strange behaviors, something you were really grateful for. You already felt crazy as it was talking to nobody. But in some weird way, talking to him almost helped you keep your sanity. As you’d sit there, your back pressed against the glass and speaking to him, you felt he was there with you in more than just physical presence. And that was a comforting feeling.

You rounded one last corner in the palace, slowing to a stop in the waiting area just outside the medical bay. You smiled at the attendant at the medical bay’s front desk. “Hey, Kali,” you greeted as you walked towards the doors that would lead you towards Bucky’s wing.

She smiled back. “Morning, (y/n). You here to see Bucky again?”

“Always am,” you said shaking your head with a grin. “Mind buzzing me in?”

“Sure thing.” Kali turned to her desk and pressed a few buttons.

The doors in front of you hummed as the lock clicked back and swung open.

“Thanks!” you called as you shifted your things in your arms and walked into the bay.

The room was as familiar as ever with its white walls and sterile atmosphere. Nothing had changed in the twenty four hours since you had last been there, and its familiarity was somewhat comforting.

You strode further into the room and rounded various corners to where Bucky’s pod stood, but when you got there, there was something _very_ wrong.

You stopped dead in your tracks, the color draining from your face when you saw his pod.

The door was slid down and the pod was vacant, missing a very important occupant.

You felt your breathing quicken as your eyes darted around the room anxiously. “Bucky! Where’s Bucky?” you asked frantically.

The attendant closest to you looked up, startled at your sudden outburst.

You turned your gaze to her. “The man in the pod, where did he go?” you asked, your voice trembling.

She pointed towards the exit. “He left. You just missed him. He said he had to find someone.”

So he was loose in the palace. You hastily thanked her before turning on your heel and darting out of the room. There were so many places he could be. You were racking your brain with places he would go, but you didn’t know just how well he knew the palace, if he did at all, and if he didn’t know it that well you knew how easy it was for him to get lost from prior experience.

And then you found him.

And the world stopped.

He was wandering the halls with no apparent destination in sight. He looked just as he did when he went under all those months ago. Granted, the bruises and cuts on his face had faded and healed, but he still wore the white clothes and the black cuff at the base of his arm. His hair had gotten a little bit longer as well. His eyes were darting across the hall, looking, searching, and seeking something. Seeking what? You didn’t know, but at that moment all that mattered was him being there, awake and well.

“Bucky!” you shouted the running as fast of your legs would take you.

He turned just in time to see you coming and brace himself for your incoming bear hug. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you and he lifted his arm to hold you.

You threw yourself in to his embrace, letting the tears flow freely as the emotions and joy of having him back overwhelmed you.  
  
He wrapped his arm around your torso, letting his hand gravitate towards the back of your head and his fingers tangle themselves in your hair as he pulled your head close. He was crying too, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and he buried his face in the top of your head pressing a kiss to your hair.  
  
God how you missed him, his touch, his presence. These last few months had been the longest ones of your life and now that they were over, you couldn’t be happier. Being there in his touch, you felt it all melt away.

You gasped back a sob as you looked up at him and brought your hand up to his cheek. “You’re awake,” you cried out in between wet bouts of laughter.

He gazed down at your face. “I’m awake,” he confirmed.

“How long?” you asked

“About twenty hours,” he answered. “They told me they had a break through right after you left last night, and they knew it would work. And… I think it did, (y/n). I have my mind back.” The joy on his face was incomparable.

“You’re free?” you asked, your heart daring to hope.

He nodded. “They’ll never control me again, doll.”

At those words, every emotion that you had been bottling up over the past five months spilled out in a tsunami.

You buried your face in his chest as you squeezed him tighter. “Oh Bucky.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against your forehead. “I know, (y/n). I know…”

You couldn’t contain your joy and so you stood up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his in a kiss full of adoration and love.

He hummed against your lips as he kissed you back, only pulling away to gasp for air. He rested his forehead against yours and breathed a laugh. “God you have no idea how much I missed you, doll. I dreamed about you that whole time, replaying every moment I had with you over and over again. And when I woke up, I was so hoping to see you there next to me, but the doctors had told me that you literally had just left.” He shook his head gently with a regretful smile. “I wish you had been there, but I knew you were probably tired. God… Waiting for them to finish with me was horrible. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and when they finished, I just had to come and find you. But I guess you found me instead.” He lifted his gaze up, looking at you with playful blue eyes. “I guess you have a real knack for that, huh?”

You chuckled. “I guess I do.” You hummed. “Oh, Buck, there’s so much you’ve missed. Come on, I’ll tell you all about it.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

You smirked knowingly. “Oh just you wait. Nicole had her baby and I think you’ll like the name.”

The two of you began the walk down the hallway back towards your room side-by-side, his arm around your waist, your arm around his torso, a smile on his face and your head resting against his shoulder. As you moved, you couldn’t help the feeling in your heart; that warm fuzziness that came along only when you were with the one you loved. It was a feeling that was reserved for him and him only, and it was good.

In that moment, all was good.

He was there with you.

There was no danger.

You were happy.

And that was how it would stay.

Because you had your Bucky—your James—and all was right.


End file.
